


In Another Life

by Marvelous_mutie



Category: Logan (2017) - Fandom, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Death, Dementia, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Heavy Drinking, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Relationship(s), Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, Shooting Guns, Violence, Weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 14:06:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11254506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvelous_mutie/pseuds/Marvelous_mutie
Summary: This is my vision for what might have been.Inspired by the James Mangold movie Logan (2017).Tags will be updated as I post new chapters.I hope you enjoy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Feet don't fail me now  
> Take me to the finish line  
> Oh, my heart, it breaks every step that I take  
> But I'm hoping at the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine  
> Walking through the city streets, is it by mistake or design?  
> I feel so alone on a Friday night  
> Can you make it feel like home, if I tell you you're mine?
> 
> -Lana Del Rey "Born to Die"

"Just a few bites. Please?"

   The frail old man lying in the rickety, stolen hospital bed was but a shadow now of the man he had once been. He stubbornly turned his head and tightened his lips together. Watered down oatmeal ran down his stubble covered chin. 

"We should get you shaved up soon. That'd be nice, eh?" 

   Caliban attempted to gently airplane another spoonful of the tasteless mush into the defiant elder's mouth unsuccessfully. He'd tried his best to spruce it up with a bit of crystallized honey he found in an old jar but it made no difference to the nanogenarian. It was rubbish an they both knew it.

"Please, Charles? You've been skimping on every meal since Logan left. He'll be back soon enough." The aging albino man's chest heaved heavily with a sigh. "He expects me to take care of you, you know. Not that either of us particularly care for it at times, but I need you to work with me, Charles."

"No. No. NO! I can't and I won't! Why do you do this to me? Torturous creature!" Delusional hissing and flailing of arms. The words of a dying mind. "I want free! Set me loose at once!" 

   Caliban closed his eyes. It was another one of Charles' bad days. His brilliant mind was slipping more and more these days and it crushed him to see the old man this way. He had once been such a gentle intellectual. Now he was losing the battle against madness. 

"Let's just hold off for bit then, shall we?" He continued to speak softly. His patience was met with a swift smack to the arm. 

   Losing his temper wasn't something Caliban did often. No, he saved that for the days when Logan was truly out of line, allowing his emotions to snowball until he could no longer hold back. With a sharp tongue and quick wit, he'd often snapped the graying former X-Man back into his proper place. 

   Caliban ignored the strike and checked the time on his phone for the fourth time since he started the futile attempt to feed Charles. Logan was late. Just over three hours late, in fact. 

   With a hard swallow, the alabaster skinned mutant stood up from the the wobbly metal chair his tall, thin frame rested on. Standing, he dwarfed the aged professor so that they looked more like father and child. With Charles' demeanor, they might as well have been. 

"Time for your medication." He set the bowl down and pulled a bottle from his trouser pocket. "Down the hatch you go. Drink plenty of water, don't want another choking incident, do we?" 

   Charles reluctantly took the two tiny pills from Caliban's stark white hand and tossed them back toward his throat. He gulped down the glass of water, sputtering a few times as he did so. He had drank too quickly again. 

   Caliban tenderly thumped the former professor's back with his long fingered hand. "It's alright. Getting too hasty for your own good again. Get it all up, there's a good lad." He winced once the word has slipped his thin white lips. 

"I'm older than you are, you twit!" Charles gasped angrily. 

"Right. So now that you're breathing well enough to shout again, I'm going to go take care of the washing." He looked at the phone again. God bless it, Logan, where are you? "I'll be back in a wink to check on you. See if you've decided to eat." 

   As he shut the large metal door to the old toppled water tower, he could hear Charles muttering something about going to Hell. Caliban squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back against the door. His back ached and his head throbbed with worry. 

"Oh Charles, if you only knew. We're already there I'm afraid." 

   His words fell softly in the dry, hot air. Dusk would come soon and he could finally ditch the ungodly hot protective layers of clothing he suffered in every day. He set off toward the large metal umbrella shaped clothes line to fetch the dry clothing. 

   At its foot lay an empty laundry basket. He pulled off a grey shirt and inhaled its scent. Zote soap mixed with borax and a hint of...was that a metal tang? Logan. He was close. 

   With fast working hands, Caliban yanked each item down and threw them into the waiting basket. Once it was full, he hoisted it onto his hip and hurried inside. One more load tonight. Just one before the light fades. 

   He set the basket down on the floor by an old ironing board and moved back out into the heat of the day. There, on the side of the broken down plant was a spicket and tub. Propped up against the wall was an ancient looking washboard. 

   The tub was filled and a second basket of laundry was washed. Caliban hated this chore. Sure he was able to remove his gloves this time of day because of the shadow cast over him from the building, but his spine screamed at him for having to hunch over the way he did. 

   Soon this load was scrubbed, rinsed and wrung. He began to hang each article of clothing one by one. The sound of a vehicle pulling closer grabbed his attention. Finally. 

   Caliban rushed inside and began to fuss over the dry load of clothing he had left on the floor. He picked up a heavily worn undershirt and a pair of dark grey trousers, shook them out and folded them both neatly. He then set them on top of the ironing board. 

   A vehicle door slammed. Time to get the coffee. The throbbing in the albino man's head began to subside. Worry gave way to a mixture of relief and annoyance. 

   Logan walked in with an exasperated huff. He tossed a suit jacket onto the picnic table they used for meals in the makeshift kitchen. Caliban raised a white eyebrow in disapproval. 

"Four hours late? No, sorry, only nearly four-"

"Don't start with the bullshit already." Short and snippy as usual. "I just walked in, I'm tired, and I don't need you nagging at me like some fucking-"

"Don't you dare! Five days it's been. Five!" Caliban's temper began to rise. "Originally it was only to be three, then four. Then last night comes another text telling me you'd be home around 3pm today. It's almost 7, if you hadn't noticed." He angrily poured the coffee. 

   Logan opened his mouth to protest. The harsh, brisk tapping of a spoon on the rim of the mug Caliban held served as a warning to think twice before he spoke. For once he did. 

"I know. I'm sorry, ok!" He rubbed his temple with an aged, rough hand. "If I get swamped with calls I gotta take 'em. We need the money."

"What we need is some shopping. Did you think to pick up some groceries on the way?" He shoved the coffee toward Logan, "Drink. Caffeine'll help with the headache." He pointed to Logan's aching feet, "And take off your shoes. Prop up your feet for a bit."

   Logan flashed what might have been the beginning of a smile. "You always know what ails me." 

"Do you really believe that I care what ails you? I think not!" He stubbornly stuck his nose in the air and waved his arms as he spoke, "I just cleaned up in here, I don't need you strutting about, flinging filth left and right like you love to do." 

  He turned around promptly and filled up a second mug. There was no sugar left and he gave Logan the remainder of the powdered creamer. Black it is then. 

"I grabbed a few things off the list you gave me. I'll get the rest after I get some sleep." He took a sip and grimaced at the poor excuse for coffee he had been given. "Fuck is this? My punishment for being gone too long? Tastes like shit." 

"I can only work with what I'm given, your highness," He was giving that hard, defiant stare Logan hated, "and if you'd care to look around your palace, you'd see you've left me very little to make due."

   He knew the rules, unspoken as they were. A rude comment deserved a rude response. One snippy remark begat another. This was just how things were between the two men. Both trying to push the other's buttons to see how far they could go. 

   At times, such as this, it was just banter. Playful in its own way. A careful dance between the two worn out souls, both heavily armed with sharp tongues. They would spit hateful words toward each other and still be able to smile behind their coffee mugs at the end of the day. 

   Other times, mostly brought on by Logan's bad temper, the spite and anger was real. He would usually aim to be especially degrading and nasty, but he could never be a match for Caliban's snappy comebacks. Logan never could decide which he despised more; the cleverness he could never possess or the truth behind the younger man's words. 

   They would then spend the evening like two  dogs licking at their wounds. Backs turned towards one another and silence in the air. This was when Logan would go and read to Charles. Even if the old man was sleeping, he'd read just to get away. 

   Logan stood and set the mug down on the table. "I'll get the shit from the car. Feel like being useful?" He smirked. 

"I should slap that smile right off your face." Caliban sniffed at his own coffee then gingerly set it next to Logan's. "I suppose I can help out. It's not as if I do all of the cooking and washing and cleaning up as it is." 

   Logan rolled his eyes as Caliban began to once again pile on his layers of clothes. They headed out to the vehicle to retrieve the groceries. Logan began to pull bag after bag into the crook of his arm. He turned slowly and hobbled clumsily away from the trunk. 

"You always do that. Why must you always insist on taking on too much?" Caliban worked on lightening the load in Logan's arms. "Last I checked you were a wolverine, not a pack mule. Although you do tend to act like a stubborn jackass from time to time."

"Don't fucking call me that." There it was. The raw nerve that had been waiting to be stepped on since his arrival. 

   Caliban shook his head and held the door open for his shorter counterpart. They put the items away in silence. Logan roughly grabbed a bag and reached a hand in. 

"Here," he tossed something toward the towering albino, causing him to flinch, "gotcha this." 

   He looked at the small yellow box that had landed in his hands. Lipton tea bags, 100ct. He smiled at Logan but before he could say a word, he was cut off.

"How is he?" Logan continued to unbag the groceries. 

"Confused. Full of vim and vigor as it were, yet still quite confused. Logan, I know you don't want to consider this, but I'm not sure how long-"

"He'll come back. He always does. It'll be fine." 

   Caliban rapped his bony fingers against the little box of tea bags nervously. His head hung and his eyes fixed on the floor. Charles was never going to get better. Sure he had his moments of clarity, but he'd never again be the man Logan had so revered. 

"He, uh...I-I had a bit of trouble getting him to eat while you were away. We didn't have much for me to scrape up and-" 

"Well now you do." Logan responded flatly. 

"Indeed." Caliban set on preparing something for Charles to eat. He almost regretted bringing up the subject of mortality. He knew Logan would refuse to hear him out. 

   Logan made his way to the door. "I'm gonna go check up on him. Maybe I can get him to eat something here in a bit." 

"I'll be out momentarily." Pale hands worked quickly, like two white spiders dancing across the table top. 

   In the water tower, Charles lay in bed. He had fallen asleep. Logan approached cautiously, trying to remain silent. Light filtered in through the oxidized metal walls, spilling gently onto the old man's face. 

   He stood there for a few minutes, watching the man he considered a father sleep. He looked so peaceful. Far from the man who so often went between mad ramblings and educated conversation. He didn't want to wake him, but he needed to eat. 

"Chuck." He reached out to shake him awake. "Wake up, Charles. C'mon old timer, I'm home." 

   His eyes fluttered open. Cloudy blue eyes. They were empty and far off. The look of someone who's mind was in another, far off place. They focused on the newcomer before them and blinked. It was like a light bulb turning on. 

"Logan?" His voice wavered. "Logan where have you been? I haven't seen you in ages!" He greeted his former pupil warmly. 

"It's been five whole days, Chuck." Logan didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Charles was back, but his memory was still lost somewhere deep inside that brilliant mind of his. 

"Five days? Surely you're mistaken." He stopped. His words stuck in his throat. "Five...days..." 

   Logan opened his mouth to speak and was interrupted by the sound of metal creaking. Caliban appeared with a full dinner tray. He walked timidly over toward the pair of older men, his large eyes fixed on Charles. 

"Hungry? Thought you might do well with this." He presented the tray with two small plates, each with a fat sandwich cut into halves, and two full glasses of cold water. "Nothing fancy I'm afraid, but time wouldn't allow for much else." 

   He handed the tray over to Logan, who nodded in appreciation. Making his way to the foot of the bed, Caliban began to turn a crank rapidly. The head of the bed tediously rose with a loud groan. 

   He smiled at Charles, who looked at him blankly. His eyes reflected a man desperately trying to recover some memory of who the tall, slender mutant before him was. This was always quite awkward for both of them. 

"I'll uh, I'll go put on the water to boil. Get a bath prepared for you." He feigned another smile and looked around sheepishly. "Alright then. Be back soon." 

   After he had taken his leave, Logan flipped a book open. He and Charles ate their meals while Logan squinted his way through the book they'd been reading. It was a collection of poems from different great minds. A momento once belonging to a very dear old friend, Dr. Hank McCoy. 

   He had stumbled his way through several poems by the time Caliban had returned. He struggled to carry a large basin of steaming water without sloshing it. With a groan and a heave, he set it down on top of the bedside table. 

   He pulled two clean towels from around his neck and waited silently for permission to begin. Logan stood and took a step back. This was never easy. Charles was still a feisty, proud man and felt so undignified being bathed in bed like this. 

   This time however, he didn't fight. Caliban was grateful, yet still, annoyance and envy bubbled below his cool exterior. Charles normally fought him tooth and nail when it came to personal care. When Logan was present, he often brought out a more docile manner in the old man. 

   Mind, on occasion he also brought out the worst in the former professor, who would curse and belittle Logan with a fury unlike any other. This was not one of those times, thank goodness. Charles cooperated and allowed the deed to be done and over with. 

   Halfway through the ordeal, Caliban rushed to fetch clean clothes. Logan hurriedly finished the job by shaving the stubble from Charles' face.  
He worked quickly and meticulously. 

   When Caliban returned, they worked together to dress the elderly man and change his bedding, all at once. Logan felt thankful for Caliban's assistance, and guilty for leaving him so often to be the sole caregiver. He knew it was a grueling, hard job. Especially with the constant threat of the seizures. 

"There we are, much better now." Caliban cooed sweetly. "A full belly, clean sheets and freshly bathed. Can't beat that." Charles reached out a hand and Caliban took out in his own as they smiled at one another. 

   Logan's heart warmed as he watched the youngest of the three men tuck in the, well, the oldest looking certainly. The gentle way the pale man handled his elder, the softness to his voice. Even the way his large, round, blue eyes seemed so welcoming. Almost loving in a way. 

   He wondered whether he'd receive the same level of treatment when his time came. He knew it wouldn't be long into the future. He could feel his body failing more and more as the months went by. It wasn't something he wanted to burden either of his companions with however. Not yet. 

   The dishes and dirty linens were gathered and the pair left Charles to rest. It had cooled a little now as the sun set. Caliban breathed a sigh of relief. Night time was much kinder to him than the harsh, blazing hours of the day. 

   He hurried to clean the dishes he'd brought back in. Logan tossed the linens nonchalantly onto the floor in the laundry corner. He grabbed the clothing the former had laid out. 

"Leave it." Logan stated gruffly, pointing at the dishes. "Have you even eaten yet today?" If he knew Caliban at all, he already had his answer. 

   The dishes stopped clinking. Caliban shrugged and turned around. "Not yet," he confessed. 

"Eat." A stern thumb jabbed in the direction of the abandoned sandwich Caliban had made for himself earlier. "I'm gonna go wash up and catch some shut eye. Been a long week." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a white hand reaching for the dishes again. "I said leave it, dammit," he barked a little too harshly. 

   The bony fingered hand retreated and Caliban gave a huff. He often neglected to care for himself, especially on the stints when Logan was absent for days at a time. Though he didn't like to be reminded that he was behind on self care. 

   Logan set off to wash up and Caliban stayed in the cluttered kitchen area picking at bits of turkey and tomato, feeling overwhelmingly tired now. Although it was empty, his stomach rejected the idea of food. Then again, He was rarely hungry these days.

   Caliban had always been quite lean and lanky, this much was true, but lately he was rail thin. His shirts hung loosely from his thin, narrow shoulders and he required a new hole poked into his belt to cinch up his trousers. Worry seemed to overwhelm his appetite anymore. 

    It had been 5 months since Logan had first approached him, begging for his help. He wondered how many more months Charles would last like this. How many more until Logan...

   He winced at the thought. Logan had tried to hide it from him and if it wasn't for Caliban's keen sense of smell, he might have been successful. The scent of illness was one that stuck out like a sharp shard of glass, grazing at his sensitive nose. 

   He frowned at the remaining half of his sandwich and decided against it. He placed it in the upcycled beverage cooler they used as a refrigerator. Later, he thought. He knew very well that later he'd insist that Logan finish it off. He always did. 

   He tip toed over to the sectioned off area Logan slept in. He had no reason to but he felt compelled to do so. The bed remained empty. And unmade, he tutted to himself. The clothes he'd set out lay neatly ontop of the sheets.

"Looking for something, bub?" 

   Logan was still wet, dripping water onto the floor. Normally his sloppy carelessness would irk Caliban. At this particular moment, however, he felt his face grow hot and knew that his unpigmented skin would betray him, blatantly displaying a brilliant red blush.  

"N-nothing," dammit, that wasn't even a correct response. "No I just- I mean I thought I'd..." What? His head swam with a million words but they all sounded like gibberish. 

   Logan raised one dark, arched eyebrow and gave a hard stare. "Well ok then. Now that that's settled." Sarcasm. 

   He pulled away the towel wrapped around his waist and ruffled his rapidly graying hair with it. Caliban's large eyes peeled away from Logan's exposed body and immediately fixated on the little wet spots on the floor. Even then, the image he'd just seen was burned into his mind. 

"Alright." His voice cracked. "Good night, Logan," his eyes remained on the floor as he backed away and hurried over to his own little sleeping area.  

"Night, Caliban." Logan called after him. 

   He mulled over whether or not to use what used to be the old plant's emergency shower. It was located on Logan's side of their living quarters. Did he really want to venture back over there just for cold water to assault his nerves as it poured over his thin body? Then again, he thought to himself, maybe cold water is just what's needed right now. 

   He gathered a towel and a change of clothing to take with him and made his way back over to where he'd just stumbled away from. The shower was nothing more than a small nook built into a plain cemented wall. In the center of this nook, laying against the wall stood a tall pipe with a shower head attached At the top. There was an eye wash bowl about halfway up the pipe and a pull chain to release water from the shower head dangling just above it.

   Out of modesty, Caliban had attempted to hang an old sheet as a makeshift shower curtain. Logan was happy to strip down and bathe himself out in the open if need be. Not Caliban, however. Like Charles, he valued his privacy.  

   He hung his clothing and towel on the old hooks that once held personal protective equipment; aprons, masks and the like. Once behind the worn out sheet he gingerly removed his clothes and kicked them out of the way. One hand vigorously applied soap to his thin frame, the other intermittently yanked on the chain to rinse it away.

   Now if only he could wash away the image that kept floating around in his mind. That incredibly enticing image- more cold water. It wasn't helping anymore. It seemed as time went on, nothing could deter his mind from wandering back to Logan.


	2. Crash and Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help, I have done it again  
> I have been here many times before  
> Hurt myself again today  
> And the worst part is   
> there's no one else to blame
> 
> Be my friend, hold me  
> Wrap me up, unfold me  
> I am small, I'm needy  
> Warm me up and breathe me
> 
> -Sia "Breathe Me"

In his cot that night, Caliban's thoughts fluttered over the concepts of his companions' mortality. Soon enough, he knew he'd be all alone again. What was he to do then? Where would he turn?

   His hands rested on his chest. Subconsciously, his long, boney fingers traced over each ridge of his ribs. Logan was right to always force him to eat something. He knew he'd lost weight but not this much. Maybe he should have eaten the other half of that sandwich after all. 

   He closed his eyes. There was so little time left. Precious little time. He hated to admit to himself that he had begun to enjoy Logan's company more than he should. Much more. But with so little time, shouldn't he confess his feelings to himself at least?

   The thought of attempting to convey his emotions to Logan himself was, well it'll never happen. End of story. He'd never be able to bring himself to do it. 

   But what if Logan was to...it's inevitable! The man is sick. Dying is a part of life. It will happen, and soon. Would he regret never telling him? Would he regret it more if he did?

   Honestly, what if he did come out and spill his heart? What then? Well, one of three things He imagined; 1) Logan would be angry or disgusted, possibly even laugh at the idea, 2) he'd accept it and turn Caliban down, or 3) he'd...

   Caliban opened his eyes again and took a deep breath. Too much thinking. Always thinking and overanalyzing everything. No wonder his head was always throbbing. 

   He sat up and rubbed his temples. Sleep wouldn't visit him easily. Not tonight. He decided to get some fresh air. The sun had set and he'd be free to roam in the moonlight. 

   He walked out into the main living area barefoot. The cool cement floor felt nice against his soles. The door opened with a creak and he slipped out into the night to be alone with his thoughts. 

   Unfortunately upon walking around the corner of the decrepit smelting plant he called home, he found he was not quite alone after all. Logan nodded and held up a bottle of booze in greeting. Caliban faltered and stared blankly.

"Thought you'd be out like a light right about now." Logan took a swig. "You look beat to hell." 

"I couldn't sleep." Caliban muttered truthfully.

"Have a seat," his whiskey bottle thrust in the direction of an overturned bucket. 

   The tall mutant bit his lip in thought, and decided to take Logan up on his offer. To his dismay, and his companion's delight, he awkwardly lowered himself down to the bucket to sit, giving himself the appearance of a giant daddy long legs. Logan chuckled and handed him the bottle. 

   The harsh liquid burned going down, and Caliban had to stifle a cough. The two men sat in silence, side by side, gazing at the stars as they began to pop into view. The view was breathtaking out here away from civilization. 

   As the bottle got lighter, so did Caliban's head. He took a glance over to see a more relaxed Logan. His eyes had a drunken shine to them as he stared up at the night sky. Caliban sighed with a satisfied hum as he passed the bottle back. 

"So, what's on your mind?" Logan inquired after several peaceful moments of silence. 

"Me? Oh, uh no, nothing. Nothing at all, I'm fine. What? Why do you ask?" Caliban blurted. 

"Eh, just cuz you're always thinkin' 'bout somethin'." He swirled the nearly empty bottle. "That, and you got a habit of talkin' too fast when you got somethin' tickin' around in there." He pointed at Caliban's smooth, bald head to make his point. 

   The albino man remained hushed and turned his attention instead to his chilly, naked feet. The veins stood out against his colorless flesh like tiny blue roads on a map. His skin shone brightly in the moonlight against the reddish brown earth. He despised the way it almost glowed. He always had. 

"Listen, if you don't wanna talk about it, you don't hafta." Another swig, "it's just that you're just always gettin' on ta me and bitching for not sharing my feelings." He rolled his eyes as the last word escaped his mouth. 

"What?! W-well that's because you neglect yourself terribly. That and you have a wonderful knack for bottling everything up inside until you finally just-just...BOOM...explode." Caliban folded his arms around his lanky legs and hugged them to his chest. "Why are you havin' a go at me? Someone's got to care about you, and it's not as if you make it an easy task. Man alive! You barely eat, you barely sleep-"

"Well, look who's fuckin' talking!" Logan snapped. 

"Alright! You've had enough drink for the night." 

   Caliban reached out for the whiskey. Logan quickly downed the last of its contents in a stubborn act of defiance. He then tossed it down beside him where it clanked against emptied beer bottles. Caliban's eyes grew abnormally large.

"Christ almighty! How many have you had tonight? Logan! Are you actually trying to kill yourself?! Because you're doing a rather good job of it!" He yelped. 

   Logan waved him off with one hand. "I know my limit."

"You know your limit?! Your 'limit' seems to be enough to kill a bloody whale, let alone a man!" Caliban jumped to his feet. 

"Yeah, well I ain't no ordinary man, bub." Logan stretched to his full height in a vain attempt to match up to the younger man towering above him. Caliban hunched over slightly to meet Logan's eyes. 

"Oh yeah? You've proved it well enough." He held up his long slender fingers and tapped them one at a time with each point, "You're abnormally pig headed, abnormally arrogant, abnormally selfish, and let's not forget abnormally stupi-"

   He was stopped in his tracks. No time to prepare, no time to act or think. He was hit with a wave of questions, thoughts and emotions. It was like a punch to the gut, but pleasant. 

   Logan's lips were pressed firmly against his own. One clenched fist had a firm grip on the neck of his stained shirt. Caliban could do nothing but accept and bask in the moment. 

   As quickly as it had begun, the kiss ended. Logan stumbled and teetered off to one side, then the other before collapsing. Caliban was left to stand there, partly hunched over with a mixture of joyful surprise and horrified shock on his face. 

   There was no option to drag Logan inside. Anyone else, sure. Even with his bad back and knees, Caliban could probably handle it. A man with an adamantium skeleton was a whole different story. 

   He attempted to bring his passed out friend to, with no luck. There was little else he could do but try to assure some comfort. He went inside and returned almost instantly with Logan's pillow and a blanket. 

   Now what to do? Would Logan be alright out here by himself? He knew that he'd get no rest tonight, not after what had just happened. And really, what the hell did just happen? A kiss, a wonderful, beautiful kiss... 

   Caliban found himself delicately brushing his fingertips to his lips, trying to recall that moment. It was an accident. Nothing more, nothing less. A stupid, drunken accident. Unless...it wasn't. 

   Ouch. Fingertips fled from thin pale lips and traveled instead to smooth, throbbing temples in a futile attempt to calm the headache flaring up within. Too much worry, too much thinking. 

"Jesus Chri- You're going to be the death of me, Logan. I just know it." Caliban grumbled to his unconscious house mate. "Gah, my fucking head." 

   He turned to go inside their shabby shanty home and stopped. He looked back at Logan once more. His mind was working extra hard to combat the buzz he had going. 

"Anyway, you wanted to know what's been on my mind? It's you, you big dope. It's been you." His voice was soft and wavering.

   He made his way back indoors and fumbled around the kitchen for something to ease the pain in his skull. Locating the bottle of the otc migraine pills, he started the kettle. A hot cuppa and some rest. That's all he really needed. 

   Some time later, he was awakened to hear Logan shuffling his groggy, still half drunken self back inside. He had fallen asleep at the table, tea mostly gone and cold now, and his was quite back stiff. He yawned and and looked around. It was still dark out.

"Alright, Logan?" He sleepily called out and was answered with an unintelligible grumbling snarl.  

   With a shrug he wandered over to his own bed. It felt cool from abandonment. He snuggled down under his thin blanket. One peaceful sigh later, he was asleep once more. 

   There was a loud crash and screaming. Logan forced himself up out of bed and ran. The world around him wobbled and whirred. He steadied himself on a nearby railing. His stomach heaved. 

"Fuck!" He tried to shake it off.

   He could hear whimpering. Pained whimpering. Caliban. He swallowed hard and hurried himself to his friend's sleeping area. There he found an empty bed covered in rust and scraps of metal. The sun shone fiercely through a hole in the roof above. 

   The cloudy fog of Logan's mind cleared in an instant. His failing eyes surveyed the area to find a dark figure in the shadows across the room. He squinted through the brightness to get a better look. 

   A significant portion of the roof had crumbled and caved in. This was going to take more than some old sheets and scrap cloth to fix. A lot more. 

"Jesus...you ok over there?" He made his way toward the huddled figure.

"F-fine enough...in a matter of speaking. I think." Caliban's muffled voice came from under his blanket. "Not the way one would hope to wake up, generally."

   Logan pulled back the blanket a bit. "What the fuck? 'No.' The answer you were looking for was 'no.' Why can't you just answer outright?" 

   What the falling metal hadn't harmed, the sun had. Caliban's white skin looked like a canvas splattered here and there with various shades of reds and purples. Rusty flecks peppered the rest of him. 

"C'mon, let's get this shit cleaned up." He held out a hand to help the injured man up.

   Caliban kept the blanket draped over his body as there was no way to avoid the light as they walked into the main living area. Once there, he was able to remove it. Logan ushered him into the shower to clean up the wounds in order to assess them. 

   While he did so, Logan hurried outside to what was essentially Charles' prison. Charles was awake and in good humour. He was given his medication and the promise that Logan would return momentarily with breakfast. 

"Is everything alright, Logan? You seem upset." Charles had inquired. 

"Right as rain. I just gotta give Caliban a hand with something and I'll be back with your chow." 

"Don't rush yourself. I'll be here." He smiled and looked like his old self again. Logan smiled back. "Oh, uh, Logan? Could you ask Caliban for a cup of tea? No offense, but he makes it the proper way." 

"Sure, Chuck. I'll do that." 

   Logan walked in just as Caliban was stepping out of his cold rinse off. He looked quite pitiful standing there shivering and cowering in naught but a towel. He was a modest man, and since no towel they owned covered nearly as much as he'd like, he was left very self conscious. 

"Sit" Logan commanded as he pointed at the dining table. Caliban obeyed, still dripping. 

   Logan made his way over to the area where they kept a stock of medical supplies. Around here, they were very much needed. Logan admittedly was almost completely the sole user of them. 

   He came back with a bottle of iodine and a medical kit. The damage wasn't quite as bad as first suspected. A few scrapes, a nasty cut to one boney hip, and some minor burns to one side of his face, the back of his head and his left arm. The bruising caused from the roof falling on him would surely be the worst looking out of everything.

   It was an awkward affair, having Logan play nurse to his wounds. It felt unnatural. Though he'd never admit he did somewhat enjoy having Logan fuss and tsk away at his expense. 

"Gotcha pretty good it looks like." Logan applied iodine to the burns gingerly. "Still, coulda been a lot worse. Sure as fuck scared the shit outta me." He forced a chuckle. 

   Caliban sat still, silent and patient. He winced every so often when Logan got too heavy handed. Finally everything had been looked at and cleaned up. Well, almost everything. 

   Caliban's hip was still bleeding. The contrast of red on white would have been beautiful had it not been for the angry gash. He noticed with dismay it had dripped onto the floor. 

"Hip's gonna need a few butterflies." Logan shuffled through the various bandages and gauze packets. He finally found what he was looking for; butterfly sutures. "Might need to lay on the bench for this." 

   Caliban gave him a pleading look. "I can take care of it if you'd like to get on with Charles' breakfast." 

   Logan snapped his fingers and Caliban obeyed the unspoken command. He struggled to hold onto his towel, and his dignity, as he lay his long  body across the bench. Logan had to apply pressure with gauze for a couple of minutes in an attempt to stop the bleeding. 

"Sorry, by the way," he muttered.

"No, it's alright. Doesn't hurt that bad." Caliban lied. 

"I meant about last night." Logan's face went solemn.

   Panic set it. He actually remembered? Caliban prepared himself for an explanation. Just a drunken mistake, didn't mean anything. Blah, blah, blah. He didn't know if he wanted to hear it or not. 

"No apology necessary. We all do things sometimes that-"

"It is necessary. I uh- I got out of line." He cleared his throat. He didn't know what else to say. He tossed the suture wrappers on the table. "There. You're done. Let's take it easy today, hmmm?" 

"Thank you, Logan. I really appreciate it." He got up and grabbed some clothes from the laundry basket from the day before. 

   Logan turned his attention to getting Charles something to eat. Eggs? Sure, anyone could cook eggs. He fished out the dozen he'd brought home from the cooler. 

   Out of sight, Caliban examined himself in a cloudy, broken mirror. He normally made it a point to avoid mirrors, but now he needed to see. The side of his face stung, but it wasn't burned nearly as bad as it felt. His arm had gotten the worst of the sun's fury. 

Ugly yellow stains covered each wound from the iodine, casting an infected look to them. He pulled the towel away from his now dry body. The cut on his hip ached. 

   He felt grateful that he got away so easy. Had the bit that collapsed been bigger, he might have gotten trapped. Had he been trapped, he most definitely would have been severely burned. Maybe worse. 

   He dressed slowly, minding his now bandaged wounds, and moved back to the kitchen area to find Logan using the small electric skillet, surrounded by broken egg shells. He sighed and shook his head. So much mess this man made. 

"Good Lord! Would you just- you're rubbish at this." He spoke up. "Absolute rubbish."

"At what?" Logan didn't look up.

"Life, Logan. You're rubbish at life in general." Caliban cocked a smile. 

"Yeah, that 'bout sums it up." He grinned.

   Caliban began to pick up the goopy egg shells from the wooden table. "What would you ever do without me here to constantly clean up after you?"

"Be happy in my own filth I guess." He looked up now, "C'mon, I'm not that bad!" 

   Caliban gave him a look that suggested otherwise. Logan chuckled and began to dish the eggs onto plates. They looked a little over done but, it was food. He pushed a plate toward Caliban. 

"Eat. You look like a q-tip." Was that a wink?

"Wait, what? Why- What kind of an insult is that? What does that even mean?" His voice squeaked slightly.

   Logan chuckled and left to tend to Charles without an explanation. Caliban scrunched his face in distaste. He was most certainly not a q-tip. Stupid lumberjack. 

   He shoveled eggs into his mouth, still frowning. With his fork, he pushed them around on his plate to form a little heart. He huffed and decided caffeine sounded enticing. 

   In the water tower, Logan helped Charles get into his wheelchair, and was now reading to him while he ate. Charles ate slowly and listened to Logan stumble over the words he read. After a while he tapped Logan's arm to grab his attention. 

"I think you may need glasses. You're not exactly getting any younger, you know." 

"Yeah, yeah. I'll look into it. You done?" He gestured toward the empty dish in front of Charles.

"Yes, thank you." He waved for him to take the empty plate. 

"Want anything else? Radio maybe?"

   Charles nodded and reached toward the small radio. Logan got up, plate in hand and turned it on for him. He patted him on the back fondly. 

"Listen to some music, play with your plants and I'll be back in a few to check on ya." 

"Alright. It was nice seeing you again, Logan. It's been far too long." His mind was beginning to slip again. 

   Logan tried so hard to hold tightly onto what he knew was denial. He loved that man like a father. He vowed to protect him and care for him until the end, he just hoped it wouldn't be too soon. 

   A tear ran down his cheek. He had a lot of reasons to cry these days. Those he'd lost. The ones he was forced to kill. The pains ravaging his own body. Hoping for a death that was long since overdue. But Charles' condition was the only thing that brought him to tears. 

"It...It was nice seeing you again too, Chuck." 

  


	3. At Second Glance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to be for you  
> what I've never had  
> All of this time  
> I'm just tryin' to reach you  
> through the rain traffic  
> As we float into space  
> your wide eyes  
> hide your face  
> As we float inbetween  
> I am with you  
> if you bleed 
> 
> -Bush, "Float"

Another month had flown by and Caliban's wounds had healed nicely. A fresh scar now decorated his left hip. An ever so slightly light pink, jagged line about three inches long. He hated the look of it. 

   Logan's scars, well, they were badges of bravery. Tokens of battles he'd walked away from. The natural tattoos of a skilled fighter. Logan looked courageous, admirable, even provocative with the scars that embellished his handsome body. 

   Caliban was none of these things; never would be, and he knew it. Where Logan had muscle and strength, he was lanky and weak. Logan was attractive, something Caliban thought himself to be quite the opposite of. He had pasty white skin, where Logan's was beautifully tan. 

   As first, he didn't understand how Logan could be so miserable. He could enjoy the sunshine. He looked like anyone else and was free to walk about as he pleased. If only he had those freedoms as well. His life had always been so limited. 

   He and Logan now shared a room, if you could call it that. Caliban's bed had been moved to sit close to Logan's on the other side of the plant. It was the only other place shady enough to ensure his safety. 

   Being in such close quarters at night, there was very little chance of escape for privacy. Caliban found himself irritated at first with the fearsome growling and snarling that plagued him most nights. However, upon seeing how exhausted his counterpart remained throughout the days, how he drank himself to near death at night to help him sleep, he felt pity. 

   On the days when he really paid attention, he finally understood. The the bags under Logan's eyes, the subtle shaking in his hands, the hard squinting when reading the paper, and those awful animalistic sounds at night; Caliban truly understood why Logan was miserable. He realized that although Logan was free in ways he himself was not, he was a prisoner in ways Caliban would never know. 

In so many ways the two men were compete opposites. In one very important way, however, they were exactly the same. They were both terribly lonely. Lonely and sad. 

   Logan remained none the wiser in regards to the watchful eyes on him. Then again, his mind was so heavy with thought already, he couldn't be expected to notice. His main focus usually lay strictly on Charles. 

   Life continued to drag by painfully slow. For a few days, the dryness of the desert was interrupted by rain. Beautiful, much needed rain. For a short, magical time, the smothering heat of the sun gave way to cool, gray skies.

   Charles enjoyed the soft pitter patter against the metal sides of his abode as he ate his lunch. Caliban had expressed his joy of being able to run outside in the day without cover, even if it was just to grab the ruined laundry from the line. Logan was the only one who remained grim. 

   He worked as often as possible to save up for a boat. Just something small to hold the two of them, he and Chuck. He would take care of Charles on his own and they could live out the rest of their days. When the time came and Charles passed, he'd use the adamantium bullet he'd held on to all these years. 

   Caliban would be allowed to go on with his life, not worrying about having to take care of anyone but himself. Logan figured it was best he didn't know of the full plan. Merciful. He was a good friend, after all. Irritating at times, but a truly good man. 

   It was the only scenario he could think of where all three men could find peace. He was determined to bring this plan into fruition. The only way to do so was to keep making money and saving it up. He had a couple grand already, but he'd need more and fast. 

"You alright?" Caliban's voice brought Logan back from his thoughts. "You've barely touched your lunch." His large blue eyes seemed to pierce right through Logan. 

"Yeah...yeah I'm fine. Just uh, thinkin about work." He forced a smile. "What is this called again? It's pretty good." 

"Pasty," he mumbled through a bite, holding a looking fingered hand in front of his mouth so as to not be rude. 

"So it's like a British hot pocket or something?" He took a large bite. 

"How dare you! It most certainly is not!" He choked, "Sorry, have you no taste buds?! I didn't have much to work with, sure, but my god! That right there is made from scratch, I'll have you know!" 

"Whoa there, didn't mean no offense," he grinned, holding up his hands in surrender. 

"Well offend, you have, sir." Caliban folded his arms in faux disgust. He couldn't hide his grin for long though.

   The pair laughed together as they ate. Afterward the dishes were gathered and Logan offered, for the first time, to wash them, which put Caliban in a state of utter shock. He had thought nothing of it, but it meant a great deal to his house mate. 

   As Logan scrubbed away, he periodically looked out the stained, broken windows above the double sink. Through one of the more opaque glass squares, he saw movement. He moved to a clearer pane and saw Caliban happily standing in the rain, arms outstretched, palms and face lifted up toward the dark, cloudy sky.

   He smiled and shook his head at the pale man. It was nice to see him genuinely happy. It didn't happen often. He had half a mind to go join him, be free and happy for once as well, but he decided to let him have that moment to himself. There were dishes to be done. 

He peered outside every so often to watch Caliban. The way he relished the rain fall and monochrome skies was beautiful in a way. Such appreciation for something most dismissed. The way his face lit up in sheer joy was ambrosially charming. 

   Two months passed and the day came that they had run out of Charles' medication. Logan had tried to get a hold of a bootlegged refill two days prior, but the dealer had raised his price. The next day Logan returned to find he didn't have the pills yet. 

   He stayed in the limo that night to sleep so he could meet the guy early. He couldn't see the way Caliban wrung his hands with worry over the phone, but he heard it in his voice when he urged Logan to be quick. They both knew the consequence of skipping his doses. 

   He had tried to be quick. The dealer was late, caught up with a patient he said. When he finally came, Logan had already decided he had to find another way to get the meds. He rushed home immediately after. 

   His nerves had eased bit by bit the closer he got to home. There were no urgent calls or texts.  Nothing to suggest anything had come of the missed dose. Not until he got home. 

   When he pulled up closer, to the plant all looked well. The limo suddenly jerked to a halt. Logan struggled to put it in park. It was like a wall had hit him. The air became thick and heavy, too much so to breathe. Resistant pressure assaulted him from all angles. 

   He fell to his knees and ushered his claws forth. They tore slowly through the flesh between his knuckles leaving beads of blood. The world shook around him and his vision became hazy. 

   Logan sunk his claws into the earth and began the painful crawl toward the water tower. He broke into a sweat and felt as if he would vomit. His brain screaming in a psionic vice. 

   Slowly, with great effort, he made it to the water tower. Inside he found both Charles and Caliban crumpled to the ground. He continued to pull as hard forward against the invisible force pushing against him. 

   Oh God no! Caliban...was he...dead? The albino's eyes were rolled up into his head as he lay there. There was no time to check. Logan pried the tranquilizer from his long fingers. 

   He pushed forward. Stretching with all his might to reach Charles' leg. The buzzing world around him settled and he fell over. He took a moment to breathe before pulling the empty syringe from his mentor's thigh. 

   Getting up to his knees he had to act quickly. Charles moaned, Caliban lay still. He hoisted Charles up and fought his weary muscles to lay him in the bed. 

"Charles! Chuck! I need you to take your pills." The professor's eyes fluttered and he opened his mouth feebly. 

   Logan dropped two pills onto the man's waiting tongue and grabbed for a cup of any liquid available. Old coffee? Good enough. He set it to Charles' lips and had him wash the pills down. 

   He then leapt over to the place on the ground where Caliban lay. His neck provided the pulse Logan silently prayed for. His chest did not rise, however, and no breath escaped his nose or mouth. 

"Fuck. FUCK!" Logan's hands rose to his head. "I don't- I- how the fuck do you do CPR!?" He leaned in, second guessing himself, mind in a panic, vision still suffering the effects of Charles unintentional attack. 

    Before Logan could even make an attempt, Caliban gasped and wheezed. Thank the universe! Logan's heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his temples. He was breathing again but not yet conscious. 

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Charles was struggling to prop himself up now, sobbing. "Did I-"

"He's fine. Everyone is ok," Logan interrupted, "It's not your fault, you got that? Lay back, you need some rest." 

   Within a minute or two, the old man was fully sedated. Logan clumsily pulled Caliban's unconscious body into Charles wheelchair and brought him inside. For once, the aging former X-Man was glad that his friend was so thin. He had trouble getting such a long body into bed as it was. 

"God dammit, Caliban." He dropped to his knees beside the bed and violently punched the metal sheet siding that served as a wall, "you gotta be ok. I can't...I can't do this again." 

   He spent the rest of the day pacing, drinking, cursing himself and running between the only two people he had in the world. Charles was up and feeling better within a couple of hours, already unaware of what had happened. Logan tried to keep up appearances so as to not worry him.

   Later that night, after Charles had fallen asleep, Caliban finally began to stir, and soon awoke. Heat stroke. That's what Logan told him. He did feel pretty queasy and sore all over, but he couldn't remember a thing from that morning. Logan felt it was best that way. 

"We're...we're all just gonna have to be more careful." In his heart he knew It was truly meant as a reminder to himself. 

"I suppose so. I don't even remember it being that hot...I mean, sure, it's always blazing out here, but I do try to be careful." He sighed and held a hand to his forehead. "I guess I should thank you for playing nurse maid yet again. I'll try to not make this a habit." 

"Stop. Its not your fault."

   Logan hated lying to him about what had really happened, but he couldn't risk losing him, not now. He just needed a few more months, then he'd thank the former morlock and let him get on with his life. If Caliban knew what had happened, he'd surely leave. 

   Through his guilt, Logan found himself appreciating more everything Caliban had done for he and Charles. Such a selfless person, he was. When Logan tracked him down nine months ago to ask for his help, the only thing Caliban had wanted in return was the company they could provide. 

   He began to view the taller mutant in a different light from that night on. Even with feeling sore and somewhat ill, he'd rose from the bed, showered off, and went back to tending house work. Logan had to threaten him to get him to lay back down. Both could match the other's stubbornness.

   Logan stayed home for the next two days just to keep an eye on the two other men. He was worried, despite Caliban's insistence that they'd be alright. Logan refused to listen to the lanky mutant. Guilt had a firm grasp on his heart. 

He quickly realized just how hard it all must be for Caliban, living in the desert, caring for himself and Charles. The constant threat of being burned. The constant schedule of meals, medication and entertaining an old man who may either greet you or curse you at any given moment. 

Logan knew he was lacking greatly in trying to perform all of the chores his friend did on a daily basis. It made him tired and irritable. He understood how the tall thin man often forgot to eat. There was no rest to be had. 

That night he finally allowed Caliban to help with the dishes. He washed while Logan dried. They talked softly amongst themselves, laughing about the good old days. Times long since gone. 

Logan found himself admiring the way the albino smiled as he spoke. The fine lines on his forehead. The deeper, more distinct laugh lines when he grinned. The little dimples on his cheeks and chin. The way his long platinum eyelashes framed his bright blue eyes. Little details he never took the time to notice before. 

After he'd showered, Logan stole glances at Caliban as he dressed. Again he was captivated by all of the details he'd never gave a second glance to before. The way his spine resembled a string of pearls as he bent forward. The thin little scar on his hip. The otherworldly appearance of his stark white skin. 

He had to shake himself of his trance. He'd always liked the guy as a friend. Some times more than others, but in general he did enjoy his company. There were times, when he let the liquor do the thinking, that he found him appealing in other ways. As of right now though, he was completely sober...

He'd change that soon enough however. If he was to get any sleep, he'd have to. He forced himself up and headed to the shower himself, leaving Caliban to finish dressing in peace so he wouldn't have to struggle to hold up the towel as he always did when Logan was in sight. 

"Can I ask you something?" Logan had returned from his shower half dressed and whiskey in hand. 

"Hmmm?" Caliban stared at the ceiling. 

"Why the fuck do you put up with all of this?" He took a long swig.

"Sorry, could you be a bit more specific? The god awful heat? The sun that tries to kill me on a daily basis? A grumpy roommate?" He turned over to look at Logan now. 

"Everything. Me, Charles, this whole place?" He pulled an undershirt on and sat on his bed. 

"Because you asked me to." It was a matter of fact answer. 

"You do everything your asked?" 

Caliban sighed heavily. "I've made mistakes in the past. Severely dangerous mistakes. I've hurt people-"

"Haven't we all." Logan interrupted. 

"I wanted to help you. I needed to, really. It won't fix the wrongs I've done but..." Caliban stopped. His eyes said more than his mouth could. 

"Trust me, I get it." Logan's eyes met his. "I just...thank you. For everything, you know?" 

   Caliban nodded. "Why do you ask, Logan?" He sat up and watched as Logan hung his head. 

"Honestly? Because I would have booked it already if I were in your shoes." He grit his teeth. 

"Well it's a good thing you can't fit in my freakishly large shoes then." That got a snicker out of both men. "I'm not leaving anytime soon if that's what you're afraid of. It's nice to finally have- sorry is 'family' too cliche?" 

"Nah. Family sounds right." Logan laid himself on his bed. 

"Family it is then. Good night, Logan." 

"Good night." 

   Logan's dreams were haunted that night. Worn out faces plagued him. Reminders of what he was and what he'd done. One by one, angry spirits lashed out at him, tearing his flesh.

   He screamed aloud, calling out for help. He suffered alone in agony. No, not alone. Someone was holding his hand. Pulling him closer. Someone was trying to save him. 

"Logan!"


	4. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit material

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you've been broken and you've been hurt  
> Show me somebody who ain't  
> Yeah, I know I ain't nobody's bargain  
> But, hell, a little touch up  
> And a little paint
> 
> You might need somethin' to hold on to  
> When all the answers, they don't amount to much  
> Somebody that you could just to talk to  
> And a little of that human touch
> 
> -Bruce Springsteen "Human Touch"

   Caliban was awakened to the usual nightly disturbance. Logan was thrashing, fighting for his life against unseen horrors. He cried out in his sleep, unsheathed claws tearing at the air. 

"Logan? Logan! You're having another nightmare." Caliban was groggy, "Wake up!" 

   Logan's violent outbursts at night scared him, even after all these months. He was never quite sure how to help him get through it. Sometimes Logan woke up and it was over, other times he fought through the night. 

"Logan please! I don't know what to do when your like this" Large eyes grew wider in alarm. 

   Logan suddenly bolted upright, fear gripping him. He gasped for air and clutched at his chest. He looked over and saw a pale figure watching him. 

   He grabbed a bottle on the table between the beds and chugged its contents. The familiar burn was soothing. The pale figure moved closer. Logan set the bottle down and held his head in his hands. 

"You should probably try a little water every once in a while." Caliban lectured.

"Fuck off." He snapped. 

"Rude." Caliban was used to the drunken aggression by now and moved to sit on the bed with him anyway. "Are you alright? You can talk to me, you know."

"I'm fine." He wasn't, but what was he supposed to do? Blurt out nearly 200 years of trauma? No. It was his cross to bear.  

   He lay back down, trying to calm his beating heart. The alcohol would kick in soon and he'd be able to rest. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore Caliban, who stubbornly remained on the edge of the bed, waiting for Logan to speak. After a few minutes Caliban decided to break the silence. 

"It was water for me. The ocean maybe." He spoke softly. 

"What?" Logan popped a eye open.

"My dream." He shrugged, "I was dreaming about water. Being trapped in it, I mean. On a little boat surrounded by fog. And there was someone just below the surface, drowning. I was trying to pull them up but..." 

"For fucks sake." He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. 

"I'm only trying to help, Logan. I don't know what else to do. But, what I do know is drinking yourself to death isn't going to do anyone any good." Caliban frowned. "I just want to get you to open up to me. It might help you, you know." 

"You want me to open up?" He shot back up in bed, "Anyone I've ever opened up to I've either killed or gotten killed. You got that?! Anyone I've ever loved has died." His hands flew to his temples, "I drink to drown out their fucking screaming in my head! That open enough for ya?" 

   Caliban lowered his eyes. There was no talking around that. He knew what it was like to have the ghosts of those you've hurt follow you. 

   Instead of being comforted, Logan was now drunk, irritated and hacking up a lung. The ragged coughing tore through his chest. He tasted blood. 

"Are you alright?" 

"Why do you care so goddam much?" Logan wasn't being nasty, he was genuinely curious. What kept Caliban there? He gained nothing from staying yet he put up with so much. 

"Somebody has to. You're all I've got in this world, you and Charles. May not be the best company to keep at times, but..." He gave a feeble smile "I wouldn't trade this for anything. Well...except maybe SPF 100." 

   Logan laughed unexpectedly. Caliban always had a way with words. Logan liked that about him. He could be completely serious and still crack a joke without realizing it. It was just his nature. 

   The laughter caused Logan to start coughing again. He reached out for another half empty bottle that lay on the floor. Caliban held out a hand to stop him. Logan glared at the pale man, but the sad eyes staring back at him softened his expression. 

"I'll get you a glass of water. No more of that shit for the night, yeah?" He pointed a long finger at the bottle. 

   Logan nodded and began to hack again. Caliban shuffled off to get the water, and Logan snuck another couple of swigs from the bottle. Inebriation had already taken over him, he was just insuring that it stayed that way. 

"Here you are." Caliban returned with the water a moment later. "Slowly now." 

"Thanks." His voice was ragged and deep. 

   The coughing fit continued. He was sick. For the first time since he was a child, Logan was actually becoming ill. His chest and ribs hurt from the force against them with each cough.

   Caliban took his right hand and thumped Logan on the back with it. He didn't figure it would help much, but he felt useless just sitting there watching. His left hand held onto Logan's arm as he helplessly thumped away like a father burping an infant. 

   He didn't notice right away when Logan had grabbed his hand. He was too worried about the cough. He'd heard Logan coughing here and there recently, but this, this reeked of infection. 

"I kissed you." His words caught the albino off guard. 

"What?" 

"Couple months ago. I kissed you an you never said nothin' about it." Logan looked stern but his voice was a tiny bit slower than normal, a little bit slurred. 

"You were drunk then, and you're drunk now. I'm surprised you even remembered." Caliban shrugged it off, "Everybody makes mistakes now and then."

"I remember." Logan smiled as he spoke. "You want me to open up? Talk to ya?" He shook his head, "The kiss wasn't the mistake. Nah. Passing out. That right there was the mistake." 

"Why don't you just lay down and try to get some rest, hmm? You're in a bit of a state right now and you don't know what you're saying." Caliban's heart was pounding. 

   Morality told him to leave well enough alone. To just let his drunken friend sleep it off. His heart longed for the words Logan spoke to be true. Of course mortality would win this fight. 

"I know what I'm saying and I'll tell you the same goddam thing in the morning. Fuck it! I'll tell you every goddam day for the rest of my miserable, screwed up life if you want!" 

"Then tell me in the morning when you've sobered up. You can shout it from the rooftops wearing a chicken suit if you must, I don't care. But right now, you need to sleep it off." Caliban pulled his hand from Logan's grip, gently pushed him back on the bed and covered him up again. 

   Morning couldn't come soon enough. It only took a few minutes until Logan was snoring softly again. Caliban lay in bed, chest ready to burst. This was the first night in years he actually looked forward to seeing the sun. 

   When he opened his eyes again, Logan was gone. He sighed and made his way outside to give Charles his medication. From outside he could hear Charles chatting away. 

"Good morning Charles." He greeted the old man warmly.  

"Good morning!" He smiled warmly. 

   Charles took his pills with no resistance that morning. He was in a very chipper mood, much to Caliban's relief. A good day in the making, he hoped. 

   He went back inside to make breakfast for Charles. On the wooden table lay a small piece of paper. Caliban picked it up. It was an old gas station receipt with a note scribbled on the back. 

'Sorry for last night. Talk later.'

   He tucked the little crumpled slip into his trouser pocket. With a sigh he moved forward with getting breakfast made. Please let this be a good day. 

   As it usually does when one is anxiously waiting, the day dragged on. Minutes seemed like hours. Caliban tried taking up time with reading Charles books. That gave into playing a few rounds of Go Fish. 

   As they played, Charles recounted stories of his daysas the head of his school. Caliban listened to the same stories he'd already heard for what felt like a million times. He still humored the old man by asking questions and acting interested. 

   The only solace he found was in the joy Charles had gotten out of beating him at their game and the glow in his face as he spoke fondly of his students. It was during these sort of moments, Caliban understood why Logan loved the professor so much. Hearing the old man's soft chuckle was like music. A rare but welcome sound. 

   Laundry was washed, dried, folded and refolded. Floors were swept and mopped. He even rearranged and organised the shelving units. Nothing helped ease the sick sense of doom and dread that was his anxiety. 

   Finally, just after he'd helped Charles wash up and dress for bed, the scent of adamantium and car exhaust wafted in the air. He paced nervously through the empty factory. 

   It was nearly dark out and he debated whether to walk outside in the fresh air or stay in. His chest felt heavy and his hands trembled. The reasonable part of his mind told him there was nothing to worry about, but anxiety is a hungry beast that eats away at its host. 

   Dinner! Shit, it was getting late and there was no dinner. He'd only worried about making sure Charles had eaten that day. His own stomach had felt too tightly wound up to eat. 

   He dug through the kitchen to find something quick to make. Fuck it. Spaghetti it is. He didn't have the energy or peace of mind to fiddle with anything else. 

   He stared at the pot of water on the stove. There was naught else for him to do but wait. Just as it began to form tiny bubbles, the familiar sound of Logan's rented limo hit his ears. Here we go. 

   It wasn't long before Logan strolled in through the door. Caliban stayed focused on the water which was starting to boil. Breathe. Just breathe. But it wasn't that easy. His heart beat overwhelmed his chest and breathing was hard. 

"Chuck asleep?" Logan's version of a greeting. 

"Mmhmm. Went down a while ago." He was met with silence. Ugly, frustrating, nerve shattering silence. "Why don't you go on and wash up. I'll have this ready by then." 

   Logan didn't protest. He didn't respond at all in fact. Caliban heard his heavy footsteps leading away toward their sleeping quarters. He gave a sigh and finished preparing dinner. 

   When Logan returned he sat opposite Caliban at the table. Despite his tall stature, Caliban was beginning to feel extremely small. He'd have given anything to either shrink away or for Logan to hurry up and just speak. Silence prevailed.

"So uh..." Logan began, mid meal. "You got the note?"

   Caliban nodded. Get on with it, would you! Everything about that moment was uncomfortable and awkward. 

"Well, I want to apologize again for getting out of line. I'm sorry. I know you were just trying to help."

"S'alright." Caliban mumbled, mouth full. 

"And uh...well...I don't...have a chicken costume, and I don't think the roof would hold me..." He gave a smile.

   Caliban's stomach flopped. What the hell was going on here? He put his fork down and stared. Logan continued to smile at him. 

"Are you drunk already?" He sniffed at the air. No, for once Logan didn't reek of booze. 

"Nah. Not this time." He took a deep breath. "I've got a lot to explain and you're probably not gonna like what I got to say." 

   Logan began by telling the truth about what had happened a few days prior. The seizure, Caliban getting knocked out, and how he'd lied. He admitted to the plan for he and Charles. That he meant to leave Caliban behind. 

   Caliban listened to everything Logan had to say patiently. After several long minutes of explaining, he was finished. Now it was Caliban's turn to confess. 

"I knew about the boat. And that you meant to leave without me." He saw Logan's expression change to one of surprise. "Well, you've left newspapers all over the place in the past few months. You didn't honestly think I wouldn't see all of your little scribbles and circled ads did you?" He paused for a moment, "I also suspected it wasn't heat stroke I'd fallen victim to. You've got a very bad poker face when you lie, Logan."

"So why didn't you say anything? Why the hell do you put up with all of this?" Logan was shocked. 

"I suppose I was waiting for you to tell me the truth and I'm going to give you the same answer no matter how many times you ask. I did this for you, I stay because of you. You asked for my help and I wanted to give it." 

"So even with all of that, you want to stay simply because I asked for help?" He raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe that. I don't believe you'd help just about anyone because they ask you nicely. No one deals with this kind of shit with nothing in return just for shits n giggles." 

   Caliban felt his face grow hot. Logan was turning it around and putting him on the spot. He felt angry, frustrated, embarrassed. Logan wasn't here to admit his feelings after all, he was trying to get a confession.

"What do you want me to say then, Logan. What are you looking for exactly?"

"I don't think me kissing you that night was a mistake and I just want to know- I need to know if you feel the same way or not." 

"Ok...So why are you telling me all of this about the sun seeker and the seizure then? What are you trying to get at?"

"What I'm saying is..." He rubbed his forehead the way he did when he was frustrated and trying to keep calm. "What I'm trying to say is that I don't think the kiss was a mistake, and the fact that you haven't high tailed out outta here yet tells me that maybe you've got another reason for staying. That maybe you don't think that it was a mistake either." 

   Caliban stood up and gathered their plates. Tell him. Just tell him. This was an old man, possibly a dying man, who was spilling his heart the best way he knew how. It was only fair to give him the same courtesy. Wasn't it?

"Fine. If you really must know, then...no, I don't believe it was a mistake." He dropped the plates into the sink with a loud clank and turned to face Logan again. "Besides the overwhelming scent of alcohol, it...it was actually quite pleasant, if I'm honest."

   He sat back down and folded his hands together neatly on the table in front of him. His large blue eyes met Logan's tired brown ones. The older man now wore a quaint, contented expression. It was a look Caliban had never seen on his normally stern face before. 

"So what do we do about this?" Logan asked, sounding less exhausted. 

"We mutually agreed on a little drunken buss. What's there to be done?" Anxiety had fled and in its stead, eager excitement had began to take root and blossom. 

"We can see what happens from here." He shrugged. 

"I don't- what do you mean see what happens? It was a kiss."

"You said you liked it. Maybe we can see what else we like, figure it out from there." 

   For once he didn't have a retort. He was dreaming, right? Still knocked out cold from the seizure and this was an illusion? No. Everything he felt at this moment, it had to be real. 

   More words followed, but neither could recall exactly what had been said. Neither man cared. Their words somehow melted into deep, delicious kisses. 

   How did they give way to a feverish frenzy of lustful exhilaration? It had just happened. Both had been blindsided by it and neither had been willing to stop it. 

   Logan became animalistic in his carnal desires. Every act, every movement between them was spontaneous and impulsive. He tore away at his own shirt, throwing the ripped garment on the floor at his feet. 

   Caliban, ever at the ready for brilliant commentary, quipped, "I surely hope you aren't expecting me to mend that, because I'll tell you right now, its not happening." 

   The next thing he knew, he was being pushed backwards and Logan was over top of him. There was a flurry of hands tugging at belts and fabric, running over the soft flesh that lie beneath. Clothing was discarded piece by piece, decorating the concrete floor all around them. 

   The bowl of fresh produce had been pushed out of the way and now lay under the table, its contents scattered this way and that. A glass had shattered when it landed. In their place, two frantically heaving bodies moved together as one.  

   It had been a long time for both men. Far longer for Caliban, however. He'd fantasized about this moment often, playing out a carefully detailed scenario in his mind late at night. This was nothing like his daydreams, however. No, this felt so much more natural, and so much better than he'd imagined. 

   In real life there was no planning, just allowing their bodies to act on instinct. Caliban decided it was much better this way. Logan had assumed the more dominating role, just as he had envisioned on so many lonely nights. In real life it was far more intense. 

   What he hadn't expected was the rush of adrenaline that flooded his brain. The slight, distinct change in scent from Logan's skin; a faint spicy aroma resonated in his nose. It was enticing and delicious in its own way. He also hadn't anticipated the pleasure derived from the pain of the both Logan's fingernails digging into his pale skin and the love bites on his neck and shoulders. 

   Then came the moment they'd both craved. Logan spat into his own hand for lubrication. Caliban closed his eyes in anticipation. The suspense didn't last long before pure gratification took its place. It was raw and euphoric, feeling Logan's cock slide in. A tangle of roughness and tenderness. Biting, kissing, clawing, caressing. 

   There were no words exchanged between the two lovers. None that could be defined by any known language, anyway. Just the grunting, moaning and whimpers of intimacy. A communication in a tongue all of their own; one of passion and desire. 

   They moved from the kitchen to Logan's small bed. The mattress was much kinder to old joints. There, cast in moonlight, they continued to fuck like wild beasts in the night. Ragged breathing halted as the ecstasy of orgasm gripped both men nearly at the same time. 

   They collapsed together, squished uncomfortably on the twin bed, gasping for air. Caliban looked at Logan in adoration before getting up to clean himself and find his clothes. Logan watched as he moved in the shadows, the occasional beam of moonlight hit his sweat covered skin, giving it the shimmering effect of freshly fallen snow.

   That night neither felt that familiar, aching loneliness tearing away at their hearts. There was something fresh that lay there now. A sweet and powerful sense of belonging. A growing bond. A new beginning.


	5. Don't fear the Reavers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I don't care where you go to,  
> And I don't care where you land.  
> Just get out of there daddy   
> as fast as you can.  
> Oh, oh, oh, oh  
> Daddy can you hear   
> the devil drawing near?  
> Like a bullet from a gun,   
> run, daddy, run.
> 
> -Miranda Lambert, "Run, Daddy, Run"

   With the months that passed, life had gotten more bearable. It wasn't a fairytale romance that Logan and Caliban had stumbled into. It couldn't be and they never expected it to. Still, it was nice to have that level of caring companionship again. 

   Being able to wake up knowing someone loves you gives meaning to life. Coming home to a kiss and warm embraces. There's nothing else like it in the world, especially when you've gone through life so long without it. 

   The best part for Logan was being able to find some peace at night. He still would wake often, claws unsheathed, soaked in sweat, heart pounding. The difference now was that he had someone who would run their long fingers through Logan's graying hair and kiss his temple, shushing him back to sleep. 

   It wasn't long before Charles knew. He couldn't explain how, but Caliban was sure of it. Logan, stubborn as he was, refused to hear any of it. Nonetheless, on his good days, Charles knew about their relationship.

   As the weeks past, it seemed Charles had a secret of his own. There were many times Caliban had walked in on him when it seemed he was holding a one sided conversation with himself. Of course, Logan wouldn't hear of any of that either. 

   On his bad days, Charles would excitedly rant about a new mutant. A child. This was impossible, however. There hadn't been a recorded birth of a mutant in nearly three decades. But there was no convincing the retired professor of this fact. 

   Caliban took it upon himself to keep track of Charles' behavior. The way he knew things that had been left unsaid...there was no other explanation. His powers, the medication, something wasn't right. 

   Logan kept busy as usual. Work hard, save money, find a home. A real home. One somewhere where no one would bother them. A place where Charles couldn't hurt anyone, where they could grow their own food and where Caliban could walk freely out in the rain. 

   He wanted all of that for them. The idea of the sunseeker had been scrapped after his relationship with Caliban had begun. Logan could no longer think about leaving him behind. It seemed far too cruel now. Not just to Caliban, but to himself as well. 

   As for the adamantium bullet, he still carried it on him as always. He'd carried it for so long, he didn't know how to let it go. He kept that little secret to himself. He needn't worry Caliban about such things. It was his security, his backup plan. 

   There were many things Logan kept from Caliban. For instance, he didn't know about the Mexican woman who had begged for Logan's help. How she'd found him one day while he was with a client. How she cried out for help from "the Wolverine".

   Logan also kept mum about the smooth talking southerner with the bionic hand that had gotten into the limo when he was getting Charles' medication the next day. He had introduced himself as Donald Pierce and was looking for the desperate woman from the previous day. 

   Logan knew Caliban worried far too often about his safety. He didn't want to upset his partner unnecessarily. Caliban had often joked that if he had any hair, Logan would have caused him to lose it all by now.  

   Because he kept so much to himself, there were many times he came home with a short temper and little patience, especially lately. He would snap without warning and regret it later. Thankfully, Charles at times could be even more vicious than he could, and Caliban could hold his own when it came to Logan's temper. 

   He loved that about Caliban. He never backed down when Logan was in one of his moods. He was understanding and forgiving, but he also stood his ground when need be. Logan knew that there were plenty of times he needed someone to kick himdown a few notches, and Caliban was capable of doing just that. 

   Logan came home one day with a proposition that had been made by Gabriella, the same Mexican woman he'd met a few days prior. He left out that she had been wounded. He also left out that he suspected more than just domestic violence was what she feared. 

  He only explained that he was to take her and her daughter to North Dakota to escape her abusive ex. That he'd get half of the money upfront, and the other half when he got her there safely. Both men agreed for the amount of cash she offered, Logan couldn't turn it down. 

   There had been plenty of times when Caliban and Charles were left alone for a few days at a time. He knew that they'd be fine. Still, Logan insisted that he explain everything to Charles and assure him he'd come home to them soon. 

   When Logan returned not but a couple of hours later, something didn't feel right to Caliban. Something in the air didn't settle with his gut. His throat felt tight and fear gripped his stomach. 

   He rushed outside in his sun gear. What had happened? Was Logan alright? He tried to swallow the uneasy feeling, but it stuck in his throat like peanut butter. 

"Logan?" 

"Yeah" He wouldn't ever admit it, but a slight waver could be detected in his voice.

"What happened?" Caliban hurried over, "Did something go wrong?"

"The job was wrong to begin with." Logan responded and briskly went inside. He would spare his partner the details of finding Gabriella dead in her hotel room, her missing daughter, or the fact that he was carrying her phone in his pocket. 

   Caliban turned back toward the limo. The trunk was open now. He removed his goggles and approached it, carefully peering in. There lie a toy ball and a child's backpack. Caliban plucked the ball from inside. He sniffed at it suspiciously. 

   There lie a scent, very much like Logan's. Adamantium? Yes, he was sure of it. Something else as well. He couldn't put his finger on it. 

"Logan?" He sniffed the back pack. "LOGAN!"

"What?" Logan appeared back outside, looking cross.

"Who does this belong to?" He asked sternly, holding up the two items. 

   Logan came closer and took the objects from him. Before he could respond, Caliban had turned his attention toward the road. Someone was coming their way, and fast.

"Who's that?" Caliban inquired nervously.

"I thought you were supposed to see shit coming?" Logan was being snippy. 

"I can track mutants." Caliban gave him an indignant look. "I'm a glorified truffle pig, not a clairvoyant." 

"Go inside and keep Charles quiet. Go!" He ushered the tall man away, "Inside, now!" He gave Caliban's hand a squeeze before he slipped out of sight.

   A dark SUV pulled closer and parked. Donald Pierce, the young southern man with the prosthetic hand stepped out of his vehicle and approached Logan. He had a charismatic look about him that would make the devil himself shudder. 

"Turn around asshole! This is private property."

   Those were the last words Caliban heard as he rushed to the other side of the plant toward Charles. Please be ok, Logan. His instinct told him to turn around, head back to help the man he loved. 

   Logan would be alright, he knew he would. As sick, old, and weak as he was becoming, he was still a far better match for any tussle than Caliban would be. He kept running to the water tower. 

   When he reached the door, he could hear Charles babbling away to himself. He opened it and went to slip inside, but was met by an extremely excited old man. Charles pushed his wheelchair out through the door way, speaking...was that Spanish?

"Charles! Charles, please!" Caliban tried to keep his voice down, lest their unwanted visitor hear him. 

"Come! Caliban, come! She's here!" His soft voice was filled with jubilation. 

   Suddenly there was a fierce screech. It was high pitched and unfamiliar. Forgetting that they were to remain hidden, Caliban rushed with Charles to where Logan was. 

   The sight that greeted them was an unexpected one. The man had been knocked out cold and a young girl stood in the shadows, a snarl on her face. Charles waved anxiously.

"Logan! Logan! This is Laura." He motioned for the albino mutant to step forward, "Caliban, come. Come! This is who I've been telling you about! This is Laura."

   Logan and Caliban watched in silence. They exchanged looks of utter shock and confusion, although Caliban's was much less visible under his bandana. Charles attempted to coax the child to come closer, using a crude mixture of Spanish and English. 

"It's ok, come. Laura, It's ok. It's ok." He kindly lead her back to the factory and assured her she could stay with them and be safe. 

   She stopped and whipped around to face Logan. Her tiny feet stomped their way over to him and she ripped her belongings from his grasp. They both gave each other a displeased look. One of distrust and suspicion. 

   Logan turned his attention to Pierce, and was joined shortly by Caliban. What in the actual hell was going on here? Whatever it was they had to act quick. 

"Stay with Charles. Keep an eye on the kid." Logan stated flatly. 

   He bent to pick up the unconscious man by his arms. Caliban held a hand to Logan's chest to stop him. His large blue eyes were full of worry. 

"Who is he? Military?" 

   Logan handed over the card Pierce had given him upon their first meeting. "Worse." 

   Caliban plucked the card from Logan's fingers. Transigen. That was the only word he needed to read. His stomach churned. Memories flooded his mind of a dark time in his past. 

"What are you going to do?" 

"Dump him in the wash." Logan began to drag the man toward the SUV.

"And what if he wakes up?" Caliban was overcome now with anxiety. 

"I'll take care of it. Now go look after Chuck. Make sure the girl stays put." 

"Logan...be careful."

   Caliban hugged him, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and then did as he was told, leaving Logan with the dirty work. He found the little girl sitting at the kitchen table. Charles was attempting to ask her if she'd like a bite to eat. 

"Comida? Tu comida?" He put his fingers to his mouth to mimic eating. "Si, Caliban, si. Yes, he's a friend, uh- amigo." 

   The girl was giving Caliban a harsh, glaring stare. Such rage behind those brown eyes. Pain as well. All too familiar were those lovely eyes, he just didn't recognize them yet. 

   He pulled his bandana down a bit and attempted a smile. The girl furrowed her brow and squinted hard at him, nose crinkling ever so slightly. 'Amazing. Absolutely amazing. She hates my face,' he thought to himself and pulled out a bowl and spoon. 

   Caliban poured the girl some cereal. Kids love cereal, right? No sooner had he poured the milk did the little beast yank the bowl toward herself and began to eat hungrily. 

"Isn't it wonderful, Caliban? She's a mutant, like us! Just look at her!" Charles was obviously captivated.

"Oh, I'm looking at her. She's got just about the same amount of manners as Logan. Is she completely feral?" He wasn't quite so enamored with the child. 

   Just then, the high pitched tone of a phone ringing let out. Caliban pulled it from his pocket. No one ever called him unless it was...

"Hello? Logan, is everything alright?" 

"Pack essentials. Grab Charles' meds and the money in the coffee can. Be in the car and ready in 5." Logan hung up abruptly. 

Pierce had awoken suddenly and after a quick brawl, Logan was forced to use the man's own gun against him. Pierce was lucky that Logan only shot to wound. Slow him down a bit. 

It wasn't until he saw the caravan of vehicles on the horizon that Logan began to panic. They drew closer at a fast pace. He had to get back home, now. 

"You just got yourself into some deep shit, mutie." Pierce winced, "You see, you can run far as you want, but we ain't ever gonna stop huntin' you down." He spat viciously. 

   He clutched his wounded leg. The knee cap was shattered, he was sure of it. The vehicles steadily advanced towards them. 

"I'm gonna kill your dear old professor. The tracker too. I'm gonna kill 'em nice-n slow and you'll get the pleasure of watching the light leave their eyes." He spoke slowly, ensuring every word hit the mutant's ears. 

   Logan pocketed the gun, jumped back in the vehicle dialed home to warn Caliban and sped off, leaving behind a cloud of dust and a man with vengeance on his mind. Bloodlust. He was determined now to not only kill the girl, but the men harboring her as well. 

   Caliban raced around the old factory, shoveling necessities into an old, small duffle bag he'd found. Pills, check. Tranqs, check. Money, check. He threw in some food, a few clean garments and some medical supplies. He had a sickening feeling they'd need them. 

"Come on Charles. We've got to get into the car," he pulled up his bandana and goggles, then grabbed the old man's wheelchair and began to run him out to the waiting vehicle. 

"Laura!" He called out to the girl. "Don't forget Laura. Caliban, please." Charles' frail hand grabbed hold of Caliban's arm.

"Shit." Caliban stopped and turned on heel. "C'mon, luv- uh, Laura." He held out a gloved hand to the little girl. 

   She shoveled another bite into her mouth and eyeballed the tall pale man before her. Her gaze was unblinking. Her body rigid and tense. 

"Sorry, you said you've been speaking to her? Are you sure about that?" He looked at Charles, doubtful. Turning back toward Laura he clapped his hands loudly, "Ándalé, or whatever! Come on, let's go!" 

   He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her. He didn't expect such strength from such a tiny creature. Laura yanked back and threw his hand off of her and thrust her tiny fist up; two dagger like blades protruded from her knuckles. 

   Caliban took a step back and yelped in shock. She then calmly retracted them, stood from her seat and grabbed her belongings. She looked at him harshly. 

"I'm not going to harm you, but we've got to go." 

   He didn't know if she understood. Hell she may have been deaf. It wouldn't have surprised him. But, the small girl took his large hand in hers. He took a moment and ran his thumb over her knuckles, noticing that there were no marks. No sign the claws had ever pierced her skin. 

   He patted her hand and then rushed Charles to the vehicle with Laura in tow. He popped the trunk and parked Charles' wheelchair by the back door. He opened the door and urged the girl to get inside. She stood there, staring. 

"Come on Laura, please! Jesus Chri- C'mon Charles. Let's get you in then." 

   He struggled to get the old man into the vehicle while Laura watched silently. The unfamiliar SUV pulled in and Logan leapt out. He made his way over to the limo. 

"I said be ready dammit! What's that kid doing out here?" He took charge of getting Charles into the vehicle comfortably. 

"Sorry, I'm having a bit of trouble communicating with her. I told her to get in." Caliban loaded the wheelchair in the trunk. 

"What?" Logan looked at him angrily, "leave the kid. She's not our problem." He got into the driver's seat and turned the ignition. 

   Normally Caliban agreed that Logan knew what was best for their little family, but this was a child. She wasn't their responsibility, but she was only a little girl. Surely she was innocent in this matter. 

   She wasn't going to take kindly to this, he knew it. He picked her up and swiftly jumped into the vehicle with her just as the limo took off. He released his grip on Laura. She growled and wiggled away from him, and closer to Charles, dark eyes watching him. 

"Don't....god dammit. Caliban!" Two more eyes glared back at him from the rearview mirror. 

"What's going on, Logan? What's happened?" Caliban demanded. 

"They're after Laura. They want to...they're going to kill her. We can't let them hurt Laura!" Charles cried out before Logan could respond. 

"That guy, Pierce? Well a few of his buddies showed up and they're on our tail," Logan began, "and now that we've got their little rugrat, they're going to keep on our asses." 

"Is this- Logan, is she the girl you were supposed to take to North Dakota this morning?" Caliban felt a headache coming on. "Where's her mother?" 

"Dead." The word slipped so easily from Logan's lips and hit Laura full force. "Shot in the head in her hotel room." 

   Laura suddenly looked like any normal little girl. A softness came to her face as she cuddled up to Charles. He wrapped his arms around her tiny body, her eyes squeezed shut. 

"Man alive! You could do well to spare her the details!" Caliban snapped. He looked at Laura with pity. "Why would they be after her daughter as well? What's she done that deserves..." He couldn't finish the thought. It left a bad taste in his mouth. 

"I don't know-" Logan began.

"Because she's a mutant," Charles spoke up again, cutting him off, "like you. Logan she's...very much like you."

"Stop it. There ain't no new mutants and you know it. Ain't been for over two decades." Logan felt a sudden rage burn inside him. 

   Close behind, Donald Pierce and his men made their way to the old smelting plant. They found it hastily abandoned. The Reavers checked everywhere and found they were only minutes too late. 

"Dammit! God fucking dammit!" Pierce shouted, enraged. "Get back in your vehicles! We're huntin' these mother fuckers down."

   He made a call as they drove off after the band of mutants. He needed his leg assessed and taken care of. The only man for the job also happened to be exactly the man most interested in the capture of those freaks of nature. 

"Doctor Rice?...Yeah, we're gonna need your little project out here. Seems like these mutes need some...persuasion."


	6. Family road trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're the train that crashed my heart  
> You're the glitter in the dark,  
> Oh, Laura  
> You’re more than a superstar
> 
> And in this horror show  
> I’ve got to tell you so,  
> Oh, Laura  
> You’re more than a superstar
> 
> -Bat For Lashes, "Laura"

For the entire car ride, Charles whispered softly to the young girl. Every so often he'd chuckle as if to an unspoken joke. Logan seemed irritated with their silent communication. 

   He demanded Charles take his medication immediately. Charles took it with the attitude of a rebellious preteen while Laura watched. The interaction between the two men seemed to fascinate her.

   Caliban sat quietly, thinking about the place he'd come to call home. When would they be able to go back? Could they ever go back? He caught Laura staring. Two dark brown eyes squinted at him curiously from under long dark tresses of hair. 

   He dug in the duffle bag and pulled out an apple he'd packed and handed it to her. She turned it over in her hands and went back and forth between examining it and him. Finally she sniffed at it and took a small nibble. 

    Come evening, they finally had to make stop. Bladders were crying out for relief and Laura had become antsy. Besides, the limo needed a top off. 

   He filled up the thirsty vehicle as Caliban and Laura made their way over to the rest rooms. Then sat in the backseat with Charles and waited patiently for it to fill up. Laura ran back within minutes and pulled Charles' hand with excitement, pointing toward the gas station's convenience store. 

   Charles laughed when he understood. Out front sat a child's ride; a brown mechanical quarter horse. "She wants to ride the horse."

Logan rolled his eyes and dug in his pocket for change as Caliban returned. A pink cell phone rested on his open palm along with a assortment of coins and a bullet. He quickly pocketed the precious bit of metal. 

"What's that?" Caliban frowned. 

"Uh, her ma's phone." Logan shrugged and shoved a quarter at Laura. "Took it so...uh-what happened couldn't be pointed at me. I was the last one to talk to her." He pulled the reading glasses that Caliban had convinced him to get a few weeks prior out of his jacket and put them on.

   He pressed a button to activate the lock screen. One swipe and the phone was unlocked. On the home screen was a file marked "Wolverine". Logan frowned and clicked on it. There was a single video. 

   Out of curiosity he touched the screen to play the video. Charles drew closer and Caliban leaned into the window in order to get a good look. On screen, an attractive olive skinned woman appeared. She looked tired and melancholy.

"My name is Gabriella Lopez. I am a nurse and for ten years I've worked for Transigen Research in Mexico City. Transigen is owned by an American company. What I am about to show you is illegal...in the US and Canada." The camera panned over what seemed to be the insides a medical facility. "They told us we were part of a pharmaceutical study, but if course that was a lie."

   The three men watched carefully, absorbing every image and every word. The footage showed many soulless looking children. Solemn young faces. No joy or humanity in their eyes. 

"They have never seen the sun, rain,1 or snow...or any of God's creatures." On screen the faces of children trapped in cages were shown. So many desperate pairs of eyes pleading silently. 

    Charles winced at the footage. The thought of children being treated like livestock broke his heart. Caliban, too, averted his eyes. It was extremely heartbreaking to watch.

   In the next scene, the children sat in a room decorated for a party. They were singing in unison a birthday song, Feliz Cumpleaños. Logan looked away from the phone. Outside the limo, Laura sat riding the mechanical quarter horse. 

   When he looked back, Gabriella was filming a stern looking older man lecturing a nurse named Maria. He was instructing her that these beings were living weapons and not to be treated like children. There were to be no parties or presents. 

"They thought we were too poor and stupid to understand. We are poor, yes, but we are not stupid." Gabriella's voice narrated. There was a hint of proud defiance in her voice. 

  Just then, the scenery changed again. A child lay on a gourney in what looked to be a surgical room. The camera zoomed in to show a bloodied, unconscious Laura. At her hands, two long blades were protruding between her knuckles and one on each foot. 

   As Gabriella explained that these children were the result of stolen mutant DNA and local girls bring forced to breed, Logan's mind was in another place. A dark, traumatic time in his past. Alkali's Weapon X program where he was tortured. 

"These are babies of mutantes muert-"  
The video cut off. The phone's battery had died. Logan removed his glasses and placed them back in his jacket pocket.

"So now what do we do with her?" Logan was more confused and conflicted now than before.

"We have to take her to North Dakota. You took that woman's money. You said you would take the child there." Charles stated. 

   Logan watched the frustrated child growling and shaking the machine she was mounted on, which had now ceased to gallop. "What is she?" He asked. 

"She's your daughter, Logan." Charles said softly. "Alkali has your genetic code-"

"Not just mine!" Logan couldn't take it. He jumped out of the vehicle and slammed the door. Caliban backed away quickly to make way for his flustered partner. 

"Logan!" Charles called. 

"I don't want to talk about it anymore, I don't want to hear about it." Logan snapped. 

"Logan...I have to pee." Charles lowered his voice. 

   Logan agreed to take Charles to the restroom while Caliban watched over Laura. They approached her, still sitting on the horse. She raised a fist and two adamantium claws emerged from her between her knuckles. 

   Logan grabbed her wrist harshly before she could do any damage. They exchanged the same angry glare at the other. Hindsight now showed that their resemblance was uncanny. 

"Last ride." Logan barked as he inserted another quarter. 

   Caliban watched as Laura rode the novelty horse. Any other child would have smiled or at least not looked quite so cross. Not Laura. Her face remained stern and unchanging. He pulled his goggles off and took note of her expression and facial features. 

"You really are his daughter, aren't you?" He mused. 

   He didn't expect an answer, but Laura surprised him by giving a slight nod. She then hopped down from the horse and sidled inside. Caliban followed silently after. 

   While Logan and Charles bickered in the restroom, Laura walked up and down the aisles looking, touching, taking it all in. This world was completely new to her. A big world of wonder and danger. 

   She grabbed a can of Pringles and went to the coolers to grab a drink. Both were opened promptly and she began to indulge before Caliban could object. The clerk paced and watched. 

"Laura! You can't just-" What was the point? The girl wasn't listening. 

   Laura walked over to a display of sunglasses and plucked one pair from its place on the rack. As she tried them on, Caliban sighed and dug in his duffle bag, searching for the money he'd taken from the old coffee can back home. The clerk approached them now. 

"She with you?" He seemed unsure, nervous of their presence. 

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. She's mine, er...her father's just in the toilet." Caliban answered politely. 

"She can't do that, you know. I need you to pay for your things and leave." The clerk tried to sound more authoritative. 

"Sorry. Eh, Laura, I need you to come here, please."

   Caliban walked toward the little girl. He held his hand out to her and approached slowly. Laura backed away stubbornly giving him the same stern look her father gave. The clerk observed the interaction between the strangely dressed man and the child, the way he tried to coax her and the way she backed away, and felt something was amiss. 

"Little girl, c'mere. Is your mommy or daddy here?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. 

"No don't!" Caliban yelped. It was too late. 

   Laura shrieked and grabbed the man by the arm. With one fluid motion he was swiftly flipped over her shoulder. The man didn't have time to think let alone react by the time her claws were in his face. 

"NOT OK!" Logan grabbed her wrist and pulled her off of the stunned employee. "Sorry" he began to walk away then turned back "You sell cellphone chargers?" 

   The man pointed to a spot on the counter. Logan made his way over and snatched one, along with some cigars. He then led Laura out to the limo, lecturing her the whole way. 

"I'm incredibly sorry." Caliban pulled out a few bills and left them on the counter before rushing after them. 

   A helicopter landed in an open field. Armed men greeted the tall, older man that stepped out. The Reavers had called in the man in charge of the Weapon X program and its subsequent studies. They led him to a large military grade vehicle. Inside, Donald Pierce sat waiting. 

"Doc." He greeted Zander Rice with a nod, running his fingers through his blond hair.

"Have you tracked down her whereabouts?" Rice knelt down to examine the wounded leg.  

"No, not yet. But we've got a good lead as to where they're headed. Seems like the Wolverine's still got some mutie kin in Oklahoma City. We just need your boy to go in after 'em." 

"Clean entrance wound, exit too. The knee looks fine. I does seem that it's possible that it may have just grazed the bone, however." He looked less than impressed. "By the sound of it, I thought you were at risk of losing a leg."

   Pierce frowned. Rice was a cold man. Cold and numb. He had to be for the line of work they did. Pierce may have been a silver tongued snake, but he had nothing on Zander Rice. 

"Have your men find the exact location and we'll get him in there." He bound  Donald's leg. "If Charles Xavier is still alive as suspected, I'd like him unharmed; for research purposes of course. The girl and the others are disposable. Tissue samples would suffice." 

"Logan, please don't make me do this. You know why I-" 

"Caliban. I'm sorry, but I need you to find him." Logan swallowed hard. "I wouldn't ask for this if it wasn't important. We need a place to stop and rest and get a plan together." 

   Caliban sighed and reluctantly nodded. "Alright. But, only because I love you." Logan gave him a half smile.

   He looked over at the little girl in the back seat, cuddled up to a dozing Charles. He was slumped, head tilted back and snoring softly. Her eyes were growing heavier with each passing minute. They looked so comfortable together. 

"Look at them, Logan. The way they are together...she brings something out in him; like he's himself again. It's like she's always been part of the family." 

   Logan's face went grim. "She's...look I don't know who she is or what she is, but she ain't family." 

"That's terribly disappointing to hear. We did see the same video, didn't we? The girl didn't ask to be made, but she's here-" He bit his lip as Logan shot him a grave look. "Anyway, just...just get us as close as you can to where you think he might be and...I'll see what I can do." 

   That night, as they all slept in the back, Logan charged Gabriella's phone and watched the rest of the video. He didn't know why, but he felt compelled to finish it. As disturbing as the footage and information was, he was drawn into it.

"As they got older, they became more difficult,"

   The video continued by showing a child turned from the camera. As Gabriella approached closer, it was clear who it was. Gabriella pleaded in Spanish as Laura slashed at her arm repeatedly, seemingly feeling no pain. 

"they could not be controlled. The company turned their bodies into weapons; tried to teach them to kill," 

   Men were running up a flight of stairs in a panic. A door opened and they were on a rooftop. In front of them, a young boy racedto the edge of the roof, ultimately jumping off in a desperate attempt to end his tortuous life. 

"but they did not want to fight. A soldier who will not fight is useless.They started putting the children to sleep," 

   On a gourney, a child lay, clearly fatally sedated. A familiar figure came onto screen. Donald Pierce was dragging the body of an unconscious, or more likely, dead child.

"We're going to save as many children as we can."

   There was a frenzy of shouting and children running. Cells were being unlocked and the children urged to run for their lives as Transigen men attempted to capture and kill them like animals. One mutant child promptly set a Transigen employee aflame. 

   This was all too hard to swallow. Even for someone who had seen decades of killing, war and torture. Logan had to blink back tears. They were children for Christ's sake!

"...a place up north. A place for mutants; they call it Eden."

   Eden. That's where he was meant to take Gabriella and Laura. A place in North Dakota. The screen was back to Gabriella sitting in her hotel room. Her face was tear stained and her eyes were red. 

"If you're watching this, it means that I'm dead. I'm not sure if the other children survived; we got separated. There's no more money that was a lie."

   A slight flicker of anger burned inside of him. He had been used and lied to many times before, he didn't appreciate it. Then again, he understood. He knew why she had lied. He now understood her desperation. Why she'd risked her life for this child.  

"She is not my child, but I love her. You may not love her, but she is your child! Please...I beg you...take her to safety." 

   The video ended. Those last few sentences stung. His heart was conflicted with so many emotions. A daughter? His flesh and blood. She needed his protection, then again, so did Charles and Caliban. 

   He knew what they would choose. They were good, selfless men who would gladly risk their lives for a little girl they barely knew. They would love her in a way Logan wasn't prepared to. 

   There were times in Logan's life when he too risked everything for others. That was a long time ago, however. He surely wasn't in any condition to go back to being so wreckless these days. Ah, but wasn't he already?

   Could be learn to love this strange, wild little girl? Did he really even want to? His mind was riddled with questions that he could not answer. 

   He looked in the back of the limo. Charles was lying across the back seat, mouth slightly agape. Caliban was sat on one of the side benches slumped back against the window. And then there was Laura. 

   The tiny girl was curled up in the middle of the floor, close to Charles, wrapped up in a dusty brown poncho, sunglasses askew on her face. Little Laura with her dark chestnut hair. Her serious little face was relaxed in sleep. 

   Logan studied her. The rhythmic way each breath came and went. The way strands of her hair fell in her face. There was a small sense of pride that tickled the back of his mind. Something, someone so perfect, so beautiful was a part of him. 

   He pushed that tickle to a place he could no longer feel it. Time to focus. Time to drive. He'd barely rested but if they were to stay ahead of the game, they couldn't waste time. 

   The pitter pattering sound of rain, mixed with rowdy voices and music woke her. Laura looked out the window to see beautifully decorated, festive buildings passing by. She was bathed in shades of purples, blues, and pinks as the bright lights shone down on her. 

"Morning. Uh, sun'll be up soon, Caliban's gonna need that poncho." Logan tried to speak in a friendly tone. 

   Laura crawled her way over to the tall albino man, poncho in hand. She tilted her head ever so slightly to the side, trying to figure him out. She took one little finger and tapped him rapidly in the shoulder. 

   She continued to do so until he popped one large blue eye open. He took in a deep breath and stretched as much as a man his size could in such a small space. Laura held the poncho up and he took it with a smile. 

"Well good morning to you as well, little miss. Thank you. I'm gonna be needing that soon enough, I'm sure." 

   He noticed she seemed more amused in her staring now, less suspicious. He didn't quite understand why exactly at first. Then it hit him; she'd never really got a good proper look at him. He'd been covered up nearly the whole time. He chuckled.

"I'm a bit odd looking, I know. But," he pointed to his sun gear, "under all this nonsense, I'm just like you. Well..." he grinned at her, "you're much prettier than I am." 

   Laura grinned right back. She then reached out a hand and pointed at his own. He held it out for her and she began to curiously examine it. They both seemed greatly amused by her inquisitiveness. 

"Keep sharp. I need you to start tracking." Logan interrupted. 

"I do hope you know we're going to have to make a stop soon?" Caliban frowned. 

"For what?" Logan looked into the rearview mirror while speaking.

"To stretch our legs, use the toilets, get breakfast-"

"Whoa, breakfast? We're not stopping to eat." 

"Well you might enjoy neglecting yourself, sure, but Laura is a growing girl. She needs nutrients." Caliban began to dress for the rising sun. "Besides, you're a tad bit more pleasant in the mornings after you've had your coffee." 

   Logan rolled his eyes in annoyance but the grumbling in his stomach told him his companion was correct. His old eyes began to scan for an open diner as they drove. After a few blocks he finally spotted one and pulled over. 

   They woke Charles and got him into his chair. Logan took to pushing the wheelchair while Caliban and Laura followed. As they passed the various shops, Laura gazed into the windows with wonder. 

   Her chocolate eyes settled on one display in particular. Two mannequins modeling some clothes in a shop window. The others soon realized she wasn't following as closely as they preferred. 

"Come on." Logan urged. 

   Charles smiled, watching Laura's fascination over the mannequins. "We do need new clothes." 

"Fine. After we eat." He wasn't in the mood to argue.

   Laura's eyes scanned over the two plastic figures. A father as child, holding hands. Gabriella had once held her hand. Why? Her own two hands held onto each other. She felt nothing. 

"Come along, love." Caliban waved to her, signaling to catch up. 

"Laura." Logan was growing impatient. 

   She hurried to be at the three men's sides. Charles held his hand out to her. She stared at it blankly for a moment. Then, impulsively, rested her own hand in his. 

   Charles smiled her and patted her hand with his other. Is this what it was like to belong? To be loved? She liked it. She was fond of Charles. They'd been talking for quite some time and she felt she could truly trust him. 

   Her eyes wandered to Logan now. Her father. She finally had a father, and a family. She hoped that he would hold her hand the way Charles was now, or kiss her goodnight the way Gabriella had. Until then, she wouldn't lose hope.


	7. We stick together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, brother, raise another pint  
> Rev up the engine and drive off in the night  
> See you somewhere, someplace, sometime  
> I know there's better brothers  
> But you're the only one that's mine
> 
> I'll still look out for you, no matter what you heard  
> They can knock all of my doors down but I won't say a word
> 
> -Murder by Death, "Brother"

   Laura was overwhelmed with the options available to her for food, so Charles helped her decide. She opted for waffles, to which Charles asked that the waitress that they be prepared 'á la mode'. It was his little way to get back at Logan for shoving the little blue pills at him and demanding he take them.

   The look on her face when she received her dish was priceless; confusion and joy. Even Logan chuckled to himself. She also, like any child, picked little bits of bacon, sausage, eggs, and toast here and there from each of her new guardians' plates.

   Caliban and Charles allowed her to steal tastes of their food, with Charles even encouraging it. Logan remarked that they were spoiling her terribly already. Both men promptly fussed that the girl deserved a bit of spoiling after what she'd been through her entire life. Logan was outnumbered two to one. 

   After their bellies were filled, they popped in to the apparel shop a few doors down. Laura happily picked out a light gray t-shirt depicting a rainbow with a glittery unicorn on the front, a jean jacket and pants. Each of the men picked out a modest t-shirt, button up over shirt and jeans. 

   When Caliban refused to pick anything out since he'd packed an outfit for each of them, Logan whispered a threat in his ear that caused him to blush under his bandana. He quickly grabbed something and hurried to the checkout. Logan put his arm around his taller counterpart with a grin plastered on his face. 

   Laura watched and then mimicked them, putting her arm around Logan's waist. The sudden act of affection from the girl caught him off guard. He froze, not knowing how to react. 

"Family trip?" The woman at the counter winked at Laura. 

"Hmm? Oh, Yeah." Logan mumbled, happily stunned. 

"You sure are a lil cutie. Them your daddies?" She gushed to Laura. The little girl pushed her sunglasses back up her nose and nodded. 

"Its really nice to see three generations all travelin' together. Ain't often you see family stickin' together like that anymore." 

"Thank you. Family is everything, you know." Charles smiled slyly at Logan. 

   They took their bags and went on their way. Logan didn't know exactly where they were headed. He had Caliban sit in the passenger seat to guide him. 

"I need you to start look-"

"He's close." Caliban's mouth pressed into a tight, thin line. "I caught his trail a while ago." 

"You sure its him?" Logan hated to press, but they had to be sure. 

"How could I ever forget?" Caliban's voice was flat. 

   Logan left it at that. He trusted Caliban's direction and allowed him to call the shots. He knew that this would be extremely hard for him to face. Logan was greatly appreciative that Caliban loved him enough to put his own discomfort and anger aside in order to aid him. 

   Soon, down a small dirt road, they came upon a lovely old farm house. It looked like it had been recently restored. The light gray siding and dark gray trim all looked very new, only a couple of years old at the most. 

"We're here." Caliban's voice trembled. 

   Logan turned to the albino man and saw he was visibly upset. His fists were clenched tightly in his lap and his body was rigid. Logan tenderly stroked the side of his covered face. 

"I'm so sorry. Once all this shit is sorted out, I'll make it up to you. I promise."

   Caliban laid his own large hand over Logan's and held it to his cheek. "You go on ahead and knock. We'll wait here, just in case."

   Logan got out and walked across the yard to the doorway. Laura poked her head up in the front seat and placed a tiny hand on Caliban's cheek, just as she'd seen her father do. He choked a quivering laugh from his throat and wrapped his long gloved fingers around her hand. 

"Thank you, love. I surely hope your father is right about-" He turned to look at her, she had enough on her narrow shoulders. "He'll take good care of us." 

   Logan took the three steps onto the porch and hesitated before reaching the door. He prayed that he was doing the right thing. He swallowed hard and rapped his knuckles against the door. 

   One, two, three, four. He heard nothing. Maybe no one was home. Maybe Caliban was just rusty after all these years. He knocked again. 

   His heart leapt into his throat as he heard shuffling from inside the beautiful old house. He clenched his fists and prepared to bare his claws if need be. His muscles tensed more and more as the sound of footsteps grew louder. 

   The door swung open and Logan stepped back, ready to fight. In the doorway, behind the ornate screen door, a large figure loomed. A tall, muscular man stepped out and embraced Logan without warning. Logan's claws unsheathed but he held back. 

"Jimmy?! What the fu- Is that really you?" The man was older than Logan, but he looked several years younger than he did. "Jesus Christ! I didn't think- what happened?" 

"Victor, I-I know we've been through a lot, but I need your help." Logan looked him in the eye. 

   Victor Creed nodded, his handsome face went solemn. "Given the current circumstances involving our kind, I think it's in our best interest to leave the past behind us. Come on in and we'll talk." 

   Logan walked calmly back to the limo to retrieve the others. Each of the three occupants craned their necks, trying to assess how it had gone. He opened the driver's side passenger door to help Charles out and gave a nod to suggest all had gone well. 

"I'll stay here." Caliban's hands were shaking now. "I-I can't go in there, Logan." 

"One wrong move, and I promise you, he'll pay for it dearly." Logan flashed the gun on his hip that he'd taken off of Pierce. 

   Caliban stepped into the sun light timidly. Laura made her way over to him on the other side of the limo and grabbed his hand. She held her bag of new clothes in the other. 

"Come." She said softly. 

"Well then, you do make a compelling argument, young lady. If you insist." He smiled. 

"Logan, you're sure about this?" Charles whispered. 

"I don't think we have a choice." Logan answered. 

   Inside, the house was handsomely furnished. Nothing lavish, but everything was fairly new. Victor was doing fairly well for himself. Laura released her grip on Caliban's shaking hand and ran over to a well manicured aquarium on the far side of the sitting room. 

"Who's the kid?" Victor inquired. 

"It's uh, it's complicated." Logan responded flatly. 

"This is Laura," Charles nodded towards the girl who was now fascinated by the fish tank, "she's your... niece." 

"My n- you went and had yourself a kid? Well, well, well. Would ya look at that." Victor grinned a sharp toothed smile. "Where's the Mrs. at? 'N who's that? Not another kid, eh?" He laughed to himself. 

"She...doesn't have a mother. Like I said it's complicated." Logan shook his head, trying to get the horrible images of the Transigen footage from his mind. "And this, this is Caliban. He's-" he looked at Caliban and tried to give a reassuring smile, "he's my boyfriend." 

   The towering man shrunk back into a corner. His eyes scanned the floor, afraid to make eye contact.  Victor took a glance at him and turned back to Logan. 

"The great Charles Xavier, my little brother, his mini, and the not so jolly green giant, all in my livingroom! To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

   Logan explained the ordeal. Transigen,  Laura's creation and purpose, Gabriella, the Reavers. Everything. They shared a moment of silence while the information processed in Victor's mind. 

"Little one can grab a shower right now. You all could use a washing up. I've got a spare room, you're staying here tonight." He stood and looked at Logan again, "I gotta stop into work tonight. Be gone a few hours. We'll figure out a plan come morning. For now, you look like shit. Go take a nap." 

   Laura was first to wash up. She was incredibly proud to show off her new clothes. They helped Charles next. Victor carried him up the flight of stairs while Logan brought up a chair to bathe him in. 

   Logan bathed Charles alone so that Caliban could stay with Laura. Victor made an offer of food and drink to them. Laura happily munched on cookies and milk, while Caliban sat vigilant. 

"So where'd my brother pick you up?" Victor asked nonchalantly, tossing back his drink. 

   A sudden, very rare, rage burned within Caliban's being, engulfing his heart in flames. He didn't fight the tears anymore. He allowed himself to get angry, allowed the fury to take him over.

"Don't talk to me like we're friends!" He snapped angrily. "After what you did...you can fuck right off!" 

   Laura tensed up. Her eyes widened as she looked from one man to the other. Caliban put a hand on her back and rubbed it to soothe her. 

"Sorry, love." He pointed into the other room, "Why don't you go on and have another look at the fish? There's a good girl." Laura grabbed a handful of cookies and scampered off. 

"The fuck did I do to you?" Victor furrowed his brow.

"You destroyed my home for one! Slaughtered my family! You and all of the other fucking marauders." He stood up, shouting and waving his arms, "Hundreds of Morlocks, gone! Dead. You-you LAUGHED as you took their lives. There were CHILDREN!" Caliban's face was pink with rage. "You didn't even spare the children." 

   Victor looked at the tall thin man in shame. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temple with sharp clawed fingers. He took a heavy, deep sigh. 

"Listen, I know I've been the furthest thing from a decent person. I have to live with what I've done. I don't deserve your respect or trust, and I get that. I also know that holding on to anger and hatred is what brought me to that place in my life." 

He looked Caliban in the eyes now. His sharp nailed fingers laced together as he folded his hands on the table. The once savage air about him was gone, leaving behind a man who was living a lonely existence. 

"I'm sorry for the pain and trauma I've caused. I-there is no excuse. Nothing I do could ever make up for-"

"Promise right now that you will do everything in your power, no matter what it takes, to keep them safe." 

"What's going on? I heard shouting." Logan was back, holding Charles in his arms.

"I coulda helped you!" Victor jumped up from his seat and hurried to grab the wheelchair. 

"What's going on?" Logan repeated, more stern this time. 

"Old wounds. Completely my fault, I apologize." Victor said, keeping his voice low. He turned to Caliban, "I promise." 

   Laura walked over toward Charles, cookies in hand and handed him one. He took it with a smile and hugged her as they both enjoyed their treat. She then pushed him toward the first tank to join her. 

"Why don't you go and relax? Enjoy some hot water for once." Logan wiped a tear from Caliban's pallid cheek. "Might help." 

   He nodded and made his way up the stairs with his bag. Logan sat at the table now. He and Victor talked until Caliban returned it was Logan's turn to clean up. 

   In the bathroom, he noticed Laura's bag. He opened it and found a medical file along with a couple of X-Men comic books. He frowned at the latter and picked up the former. Flipping through the file, he saw his own name printed in plain black ink "James 'Logan' Howlett" under the section marked 'DNA source'. It was final, black and white. He had a child. 

   Victor urged Logan to nap until lunch. Meanwhile the others were invited to watch tv. After a long talk Caliban had calmed significantly and offered to help when dinner rolled around. 

   They took their seats around the dining table; one family. Victor filled them in on how he'd fared since he last saw his brother. He was now the owner of a casino there in Oklahoma City and had lived a relatively quiet life for the past several years. 

   After dinner, He excused himself to leave for work. He told them he'd be back in a few hours and to make themselves feel at home. They bid him goodnight and decided an early night is what they all could use. 

   Charles and Laura slept in the guest room, he on the bed, and she in a fluffy nest of blankets on the floor. Logan and Caliban slept in the living room. Logan took the couch since Caliban couldn't comfortably fit on it. The latter took the recliner. Victor arrived home before 1 am and retired to his bedroom. 

   Come morning light, everyone woke in a better mood with a more positive outlook. Their old clothes had been washed and packed away; Laura's in her back pack, the rest in the old duffle bag. Laura was sent into the livingroom to nibble on a pastry and watch cartoons.

   Just as the men began to gather around the kitchen table to discuss a plan, there was the violent beating sound of a helicopter, joined by trucks. Victor and Logan jumped up and Laura ran over to Charles, clutching her bag. Caliban threw on his poncho, pulled the hood to cover his bald head, and grabbed the handles on Charles wheelchair, ready to run. 

"It's them." Logan warned.

"Take them and run. I'll hold them off." Victor crouched, teeth bared. "Jimmy! Go!"

"Brothers stick together, remember?"

   The front door splintered and collapsed with a loud bang. Claws came out on the three Creed/Howlett members. Three on each hand for Logan, one on each finger for Victor, and two on each tiny fist for Laura. 

   The creature that greeted them in the doorway was one that none of the group could have prepared for. Not in their wildest dreams, nor nightmares. For like Laura, this beast was like Logan. Very much like him.


	8. Friends and foes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He held me in his arms  
> and he taught me to be strong.  
> He told me when he's gone,  
> "Here's what you do;  
> when trouble comes to town  
> and men like me come around,"  
> Oh, my daddy said, "shoot!"  
> Oh, my daddy said, "shoot!"
> 
> -Beyoncé ft. The Dixie Chicks, "Daddy lessons"

   What Logan saw before him was a impossibility. A younger, more feral version of himself stood in the doorway. It's eyes were dead and devoid of light or emotion. 

"What the fuck..." Logan's mind couldn't wrap around what was happening.

"Jimmy! Get out of here!" Victor shouted to his brother. 

   Logan didn't move. He couldn't. His brain and body were trapped in shock. He felt Victor push him back, begging him to flee. Nothing registered though. Nothing but the feeling of dreaded doom. 

"Laura!" Charles shouted, reaching for the girl. Caliban had to pull him back into his seat as he almost fell. 

   The world around them seemed to move in slow motion. Logan turned and saw Laura, his Laura, wearing the same fierce snarl he had donned on many occasions. Behind him, Charles was reaching for her, crying out for her. Caliban's face was white as ever, and his already abnormally large eyes were wide with terror. 

   Then there was Victor. A man he'd spent decades fighting with, for, and against. A man who he'd seen go to the brink of evil. A man who was now begging him to protect the only family he had left. 

   He wouldn't allow his brother to fight alone. Not this time. They'd been separated for far too long. Logan turned around to face his frightened lover. 

"Take Laura and Charles. Get as far away as you can. Go!" 

   Zander Rice stood on the beautiful front lawn of the quaint country home. The sun shone down into his eyes. He shielded them with one hand and spoke into a walkie with the other. 

"He's in place. Secure the perimeter. I want the old man alive, do you understand? Unharmed would be preferable, but use any means necessary." 

   From inside the comfort and protection of a Transigen van, Donald Pierce watched on a series of small screens just what Rice's creation was seeing. He propped up his injured leg and flashed a smile that showed off a perfectly polished gold tooth.

"I told you we was gonna hunt you down." His tone was smug. 

   He ran his fingers through his caramel colored hair and sat back to watch the entertainment unfold. He was going to enjoy watching that cocky mutant mother fucker go down. Him and the little bastard child.

   Reavers filed out of their vehicles and surrounded the home. Every window and door was covered by armed mercenaries. Each one ready for action, hoping to kill one of the mutants hidden with the home's walls.

"Twenty-four!" Rice called out to his monstrosity, "bring me the girl. Leave the rest of them to the men unless they put up a fight." 

   X-24 stepped forward. Cold, calculated, he locked his vision on Laura and came for her, wielding his own set of adamantium claws. Three sets of screams erupted. Three powerful voices calling forth their natural instinct to fight. Three mutants charged the imposter, wielding their mutated weapons. 

   Logan hit first, landing his claws straight through the clone's throat. The beastly creature threw his own strike at Logan's arm and made his mark. Victor slashed at its face, tearing the tissue to ribbons. Laura ducked the three men and began to attack from behind, reaching her claws through his ribcage and into his lungs.

   Caliban recoiled at the sight. He'd seen Logan sustain and heal wounds in his younger days, but now his healing factor was almost null. Charles continued to fight and scream for the child he'd come to love as a granddaughter. 

   If Logan felt pain in his skewered arm, he hid it well. Blood dripped from both of the Logans. Sprinkling the wooden floor with what might have been mistaken at first glance for rose petals from a serenading lover.

   The clone slashed at Victor's chest. The large, muscular man screamed out and assaulted the attacker with a fearsome fury. Laura was sent flying through the air by X-24's backhanded swing and slammed into a wall, breaking the sheet rock. 

   The small girl stood and shook off the chalky dust and leapt forward with a screech, swinging two dagger tipped feet toward it. They sunk deep into his side, just as Logan was flung backward. Victor rammed both clawed hands into the creature's stomach and with great force, ripped its abdomen open. 

   The clone let out a cry and sunk down to it's knees. Laura pulled a fist back and before she could launch it forward, gunfire tore through her tiny body from the open doorway. Caliban screamed and pulled Charles' wheelchair out of range of fire. 

   Tears ran down both of their faces. Charles took one last lunge forward. That's when the seizure hit. They had never gotten around to breakfast that morning, so Charles had not yet taken his medication. The night before, neither Logan nor Caliban had remembered to give him his dose. 

   Charles hit the floor. The world around him shook in rhythm with his body. His eyes rolled and he released a powerful psionic force that froze both ally and foe. 

   Logan, who had sustained numerous non healing injuries, fell to his hands and knees. Victor collapsed, still viciously tearing away at the artificial mutant's gut. Laura lay on the floor. 

   Logan's vision was hazy. His eyes turned this way and that, trying to make out what had happened. Charles. He needed help. 

   Laura lifted her little head and began to claw her way over to Charles. She inched closer and closer toward him, straining against the invisible force pushing her backward. She began to pass by Logan, who was struggling to his feet. 

   When she focused her eyes at the old man, another figure drew her attention. Caliban was using every bit of energy he possessed to dig in his duffle bag. Laura could see he already held the tranquilizer and needle in one pale hand. With the other, he dug in a small sidepocket. 

   Their eyes met and he tried to speak but no sound came out. He had no breath to make noise with. He curled three fingers into his palm and with his index and thumb, formed an "L" shape. He pointed it toward...Logan?

   Her eyes followed his finger to her father, then back to Caliban. Her expression was puzzled. He mimicked again and she realized, he was signaling her to grab the gun in Logan's belt. She reached up slowly and pulled it loose.

   She looked back at Caliban who was growing weaker by the second. He outstretched his hand to her. In his white palm lay a small object; a bullet. Laura understood now. 

   She continued to crawl painstakingly over to him, getting as close as possible. Caliban rolled the bullet a few inches toward Laura, then turned his attention to the syringe in his other hand. 

   Laura turned back now to face her father, uncle and the imposter. Victor was still valiantly and ferociously fighting to maim X-24. Logan was on his feet again and looking straight at her. 

   He took a step back as Laura painstakingly loaded the bullet. As soon as Caliban had plunged the needle into Charles' neck, the force released them suddenly, causing everyone to lurch or collapse. Laura held up the gun after steadying herself. 

"Shoot! Laura, shoot!" 

   Laura obeyed her father's desperate cries. She aimed at the clone's expressionless face. Victor backed away and the clone staggered toward her, still intent on following the command it was given. 

   There was a loud bang, then a haunting ringing in Laura's head. The creature had fallen, its head ruined. She saw Logan shouting at her, but she couldn't hear his voice. 

   Victor collected himself quickly, grabbed Charles up from the floor and shoved him into the wheelchair. He then pushed Caliban and Laura toward the splintered door frame, before he and Logan charged out and faced the men outside. 

   Luckily most were still stunned as a result of the seizure. Logan and Victor easily took them down one by one, slashing and stabbing as they went. They were covered in a mixture of their own blood and that of those they attacked. 

   Laura, her ears still ringing from the gunshot, also took to taking out anyone who stood in their way. She made a path to the limo for the two men that followed. Once they reached it, she turned to join the two brothers. 

   Caliban grabbed her arm. His mouth moved, but she couldn't make out the words. He then pulled her close and hugged her tightly. When he pulled away, blood was smeared on his otherwise colorless cheek. Hers? Someone else's? It didn't matter, he and Charles were safe. 

   Caliban clumsily and unceremoniously dragged a dazed Charles into the limousine. He then screamed to Logan and Victor to hurry. Laura ran to help them; her family. Caliban tried to grab her, stop her, but she moved too quickly. 

"Laura come back!" 

   Blood rained and bodies fell. The assault going on outside of the van made Pierce's heart drop. He began to panic. The driver of his van had been killed. He was no longer safe.   
     
   He climbed out of the back of the van and gingerly made his way around the front. So many bodies surrounded him. He scanned the scene, seeing three killer mutants taking hit after hit and still going. 

   Near the front of the house, a bloodied man was crawling his way toward Donald. It didn't take long for him to recognize the man as Dr. Rice. He clawed at the ground, dragging his body along. 

   Logan had been the one to tear through Zander's chest. It was the aging model Rice had used to create his prized creature that had sealed his fate. His breathing was ragged as he reached toward Donald now. 

   Pierce looked at the dying man with disgust. He jumped into the van, minding his injured leg, and drove off. What was left of the Reavers joined him and fled. 

   Zander Rice was left on that beautiful, well tended lawn, the sun beating down on him. He blinked into the blinding light. A shadow came over him, a little girl with wild, dark hair. 

   Laura looked down at him. Her hearing was starting to come back now. She could hear her name being called. Turning away from the man on the ground she retracted her claws and ran to her family. 

   A single piece of paper fell from her open bag. With the last of his strength he picked it up and unfolded it. He let out a choking laugh and stared at it then, grabbed his walkie. 

"Take down these coordinates and kill every last one of the mutant scum." 

   Zander read of a series of numbers on the back of the paper before taking his last breath. In his hand lay a photograph of a group of children. Among those children was Laura. 

   Logan was bleeding. Charles wept and clung to Laura, checking her over and over for wounds. Victor had taken the wheel while Caliban sat on the limousine floor, using the medical supplies he'd packed. 

"You're going to be alright. I'll take care of you. Logan? Can you hear me? Hold on!"

   Logan had held on. He had forced himself to continued fighting despite his injuries and blood loss. He fought for Charles, for Caliban and even for Victor. Most of all, he fought for Laura.

   He could feel Caliban tightening his own belt around his bicep. His shirt was torn away and his lover's long fingers applied pressure using the shreds of Logan's shirt to help dam the wounds. The pain was overwhelming; too much for his old body.

   Now he rested. His body was weak and he couldn't stay awake any longer. He felt so worn, so tired. He felt he was dying. 

"Logan? Stay with me! LOGAN!" 

"DADDY!" Laura? 

   Victor was sitting beside him when he woke. Logan blinked, trying to focus his eyes. This room was unfamiliar. He tried to sit up but was pushed gently back down by two gentle, brown hands. 

"Whoa, hold it right there. You need to lay down while you heal." The voice, too, was unfamiliar. 

"Do what he says, Jimmy. Man knows his stuff." Victor grinned at his brother. "Welcome back."

"Where the fuck are we?" Logan garbled. 

"Watch it. Think you gotta broken jaw there, mister." The voice said. "And that's the least of your worries."

   Logan felt his swollen face. A breathing mask was strapped over his nose and mouth. One side of his face was throbbing horribly. Definitely broken. 

"You boys just sit tight. I'm gonna go tell your family you're awake." The man walked out. Logan could hear the click of the door, the soft footsteps leading away and the muffled cries of joy from another room. 

"Joey's a doctor. Got himself in a whole heap of trouble a while back; gambling problems." Victor spoke in a soft, amused voice. "I smoothed things out for him and...well here we are." 

   Logan looked over toward Victor. He was unharmed. A long tube ran from his arm into a small red bag. Blood? 

   His own arm also had a tube. A bag of blood, Victor's blood, hung overhead and dripped steadily into his body. In the other hand, an iv of saline and antibiotics fed into his veins. 

"Jesus...thanks." Logan was exhausted. He began to cough harshly. 

   The door opened again and the first face he saw was Laura staring up at him. He reached his hand to her and stroked her hair. She flashed a toothy grin in return. 

"That little gal of yours sure reminds me of you. She kicked some serious ass." Victor winked at her. 

   Logan laughed to himself. She certainly had a lot of spunk, that was for damn sure. Caliban had joined Laura's side now. He leaned in kissed Logan gently on the forehead. 

"You hurt?" Logan pointed at Caliban's blood smeared clothes and skin. 

   He looked down as if he hadn't quite realized until now just what a mess he was. "No, No I'm fine. It's mostly from you, honestly. It's a miracle you had any blood left in you." He lovingly ran his fingers through Logan's hair. "How are you feeling?" 

"Uh, well pain. It's mostly pain that I feel." His jaw throbbed intensely. 

"No more talking until that jaw is healed up, alright?" The man, Joey, spoke up. "Over night you think, Vic?"

"Hopefully." Victor was unsure. His healing factor was still active. The adamantium he'd once so desired was what was poisoning his brother now. "Thanks again, Joey."

"Joseph." He corrected. "You're all welcome to stay tonight. I've got extra clothes that might fit a couple of ya. I think my daughter might have left something here for your girl." 

   They got themselves washed up of the dried blood and tattered clothes. Joseph dug up some clothes for Victor and Logan. Caliban and Charles opted to wear their clean outfits in the duffle bag. 

   Laura walked into a half painted bedroom. Lilac covered some of the walls, while the rest were white. Boxes sat in the corner against the wall. A picture of a young girl about Laura's age standing with Joseph sat on a dresser. 

   Laura picked the photograph up and looked at it closer. The girl wore intricate braids in her hair, each one decorated with small beads. Laura smiled at the pair in the photo. One day that would be her and Logan, she was sure of it. 

"Maya decided she was too old for a purple bedroom." Joseph sighed. "She lives with her momma now. Comes over to visit every few weeks. You can use her bed tonight, but first, let's find you some clothes." 

   No one rested easy that night, with the exception of Charles and Logan. Caliban sat at Logan's side through the night, occasionally nodding off for a moment here and there. Laura tossed and turned, dreaming of the bad men coming to hurt her. 

   Victor and Joseph alternated short naps, taking turns standing watch every two hours. Luck seemed to be on their side. There were no disturbances throughout the night and come the early hours of the morning, Logan was mostly healed. 

   They thanked him and continued their journey to North Dakota. To Eden. Joseph packed a small breakfast for them and Victor hugged him goodbye, most likely, forever. Laura hoped in her heart that they'd find her friends soon; that they'd be safe.


	9. The Garden of Victory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you dare look out your window,   
> darling everything's on fire  
> The war outside our door keeps raging on  
> Hold onto this lullaby   
> even when the music's gone
> 
> Just close your eyes,   
> the sun is going down  
> You'll be alright,   
> no one can hurt you now  
> Come morning light,   
> you and I'll be safe and sound
> 
> -Taylor Swift ft. The Civil Wars, "Safe and Sound"

   Victor drove first, allowing Logan to rest further. The blood transfusion had helped heal him greatly, but it wasn't enough. They had left before sunrise that morning to get a head start. Victor said goodbye to his comfortable life he'd made for himself, and Logan was grateful. 

   Laura cuddled up to her father after a few hours of driving. He woke to find her nestled in the crook of his arm. To his other side, Caliban had dozed off, leaning on his shoulder. Logan smiled with one arm around each of them. He kissed Caliban's hooded head, then turned and kissed Laura's. 

"Thank you." He whispered and kissed her head again, then laid his own on hers. "Thank you so much." 

"De nada." She mumbled. 

   In the front seat, Victor gave a toothy grin. It was strange, being reunited like this. Even stranger that it was on good terms. This was a new chance, a chance to go back to the beginning and start again. To be a better man, and brother. 

   They stopped an hour later at a gas station to fill up. The early morning air was cool and crisp on their skin. It was decided that Caliban would stay with Laura while Victor helped Logan and Charles to the restroom. 

"Let's not have another incident like last time, deal?" 

   Laura nodded. She gripped his hand and walked alongside him down the aisles. Caliban was walking mainly to stretch his long legs, while Laura was busy studying trinkets here and there on the shelves. 

   They came upon a small section of children's toys. Her interest was peaked as she led him down the aisle. She stopped suddenly and let out a squeaky gasp.

"What's wrong? Ah, see something you like?" She nodded. He awkwardly attempted to crouch down to her level. "Alright. Which one is it, then?" 

   Laura bit her bottom lip and pointed. Thereon the shelf sat a little stuffed, white unicorn. It had a brightly colored rainbow mane and tail, and sparkles on its hooves and horn. It's beady eyes stared blankly back at them. 

"You know what I think? I think that this particular unicorn needs a really special little girl to take her home. Someone who will love her and take extra good care of her." He picked it up and made it do a little dance along the shelf. "Whaddya say? Think you could that?" 

"Yes...I will." Her answer was short, but sincere. 

"Alright then, it's settled. She's yours!" He placed the plushie into the girl's eager hands.

   Laura squealed with delight and immediately wrapped her arms around his neck. The love of a child was one Caliban had never expected for his future. Now as he embraced this little girl before him, he didn't know how he could ever go on without it. 

   The other men returned in time to see to the heartwarming scene. Laura ran up to them to show off her prize. The grin on her face could outshine the sun. 

"Daddy! Daddy, Mira!" She jumped around excitedly. 

"Yeah, would ya look at that." Logan walked over to Caliban, who was absolutely beaming with pride. "You're going to spoil her rotten." He teasingly lectured. 

"Oh, don't worry, I fully intend to." Caliban answered with laughter in his voice. 

   They grabbed a few odds and ends; a new pair of gloves and sun hat to replace the ones Caliban had left behind, Laura's unicorn, and some snacks and drinks to tide them over. It was going to be a long drive to North Dakota and the less stops they made, the better. 

   They got back on the road quickly and began making their way to Eden. Caliban took the wheel for the first time since their journey began. In the back, Charles told Laura stories of his days as a professor and mentor to young mutants like her. 

   Every so often they'd switch drivers and the rest of their group would sit in the back. After another rest stop, Charles asked to sit up front. His reasoning was to better see the sights, but he dozed lightly for most of the trip. 

   Miles of lonely roads, rocks, hills, trees all passed by in a blur. As the hours drew on, the passengers grew restless and bored. Spirits grew, however, as that night, they finally made it to North Dakota. 

   Logan and Victor began to discuss pressing on, or finding a place to settle for the night. Logan had been driving the last three hours and refused to stop unless it was urgent. Before anything further could be said on the subject, Caliban had popped his head up front and hushed them. 

"Open the window." He demanded. Logan raised an eyebrow but obeyed. A smile grew on Caliban's face. "Pull over!"

"What? No, we're not-" Logan protested. 

"Pull over!" He insisted.

   With a huff, Logan pulled off onto the side of the dirt road. Caliban jumped out immediately before he could even fully put it in park. Logan got out after him to see what had gotten into him. 

"If you gotta take a piss, just-"

"They're close." His voice sounded triumphant. "Logan, they're close! The children; there- there's a whole group of them!" 

"You're positive?" Logan's heart skipped a beat. "Check again, just to make sure."

"Unbelievable! Second guessing me all the time. Let's have you start sniffing around like a blood hound. Maybe then you'll-"

"Alright, alright. I'll take that as a yes. Get your ass back in the car." Logan smirked at him. 

"Do we wake her?" Caliban looked at the sleeping girl, curled up with her unicorn next to Victor, who was snoring quite loudly. 

"Not yet. Not until we find them." Logan shook his head. "Until then, get to sniffin' Fido." 

"Did I ever tell you just how much I hate you?" Caliban rolled his eyes before planting a kiss firmly on Logan's lips. 

   They got back in and continued on their trek. It didn't take them much longer to find the small cabin sitting atop a cliff. Logan could just make out a figure standing in a watch tower looking down on them. 

"They're too far away. I can't really- can you make out who it is?" Logan squinted

"Excuse me, I know my eyes are quite large, but they're not bloody binoculars!" 

   Logan surveyed their surroundings. It looked like they were going to have to climb their way up. Suddenly it hit him; he'd gotten Laura to Eden. Now what? 

   He wondered now for the first time if Laura would stay with him. Were they supposed to care for all of the children? Step 1 was escaping Transigen. Step 2 was meeting in Eden. What was step 3?

"Hey! Can you hear me?" His voice echoed in the silence of the night. The figure above waved their arms.

   The other passengers woke to the sound of Logan's shouts. Laura quickly stuffed her new lovie into her backpack and shouldered it before jumping out. Caliban went to the trunk to retrieve Charles' wheelchair, then hesitated. 

"He-what are we going to...he can't climb." Caliban lowered his voice. 

   Victor took a few steps back to assess the cliff, "There another way up? Go around maybe?" 

   Logan shook his head. "I can go first. Talk to them. See who's up there." 

"You ain't going alone." Victor raised an eyebrow. 

"I will go." Laura stated flatly. 

"Absolutely not. No." Logan said sternly.

"Then we go together." She argued. "Rictor!?"

"Laura? Eres tu?" The voice of a young male answered. 

"Sí! Tenemos un viejo. No puede camina." Laura yelled back. "We need help." 

  There was silence for a moment. Several more silhouettes joined Rictor's against the last light of the setting sun. They began to lower a large board hanging by rope as a lift. 

"Laura?" This time a female vice called out. "Have him lie still. We will pull him up." 

"Thank you!" She turned to the group, clearly pleased with herself. 

   They carried Charles to the lift and lay him down. Logan, Victor, and Laura all began to climb as he was hoisted up. Caliban stayed behind in order to set the wheelchair on the lift as well. 

   Once successfully up to the top, they were greeted by a small group of children about Laura's age. To the elder professor, it was an overwhelming sight. He burst into tears as he reached out to touch each of the children's hands in greeting. They gladly obliged, one by one. 

"Children! Oh dear, merciful heavens! Mutant children."

   Never again had he hoped to see a young mutant, let alone a handful of them. His old body shook as he sobbed. This was a dream come true; surrounded by mutant youths once more. He had something to live for again. Something to give him hope. 

   The wheelchair was set up and he was gently lowered into it. Everyone watched as Laura hugged each of her friends. What a beautiful sight they had all stumbled into. Four old, tired, worn out mutants, and the next generation of mutantkind. 

   Whilst the joyous reunion unfolded, a war was brewing. In the distance, the furious thunder of oncoming vehicles grew. Now that the mercenaries had the rendezvous coordinates and adequate time to regroup, they were determined to destroy the last of rogue vermin that had plagued their world.

   There was laughter on both sides. Two very different kinds of laughter rang out in the still night. One of innocence, harmony, and union; the other of vengeance and exhilaration from the thrill of the hunt. 

   Adrenaline pumped through the veins of the Reavers. Adrenaline, determination, and hatred. A dangerous combination. Despite what had occurred back in Oklahoma City, they were dead set on their murderous mission.

   Donald Pierce had felt no shame for what he'd done, leaving Rice to die. Even as he heard the man's ragged breathing over the walkie, he felt no remorse. Hell, why should be? Rice knew the risks. They all did. 

   He put too much faith in that creature of his. Treating it like a gifted child. Pierce knew better. Man made or natural fuck up, the only good mutie was a dead one. You lose sight of that mantra, you was as good as dead yourself. 

"Reese, you got a lock on their location yet? Verify dammit." He spoke into the walkie, somewhat annoyed that the man flying the scouting drone hadn't responded to his first prompt. It had been several minutes now. 

"Affirmative. You ain't gonna believe this shit." The voice sounded amused. "Take a look, screen 4, channel b." 

   Pierce brought up the surveillance screen in question and nearly choked on the toothpick he was chewing on. There they were. A gaggle of home cooked mutie brats and the Wolverine and company. 

"I'll be damned." He whispered to himself, then into the walkie. "Looks like we got here right on time boys." 

   The children were gathered around the four men and Laura. They excitedly poked at and eyeballed each of them. For once, to his relief, Caliban wasn't getting the most stares. It was Logan and Victor who were the stars of the show. 

"You are real..." A round faced boy breathed nervously. His brown eyes widened in awe. "Wolverine and Sabertooth." He held out a hand to Logan. "M-my name's Bobby, sir." 

   Logan felt awkward but shook the boy's hand anyway. Victor was more amused by Bobby's admiration. He shook the boy's hand roughly and gave him a sharp toothed grin. Upon seeing Victor's smile, another boy with a slight reptilian look about him flashed his own sharp teeth. 

   Laura beamed as the others took turns asking questions with their 'ooh-ing' and 'ahh-ing'. She could be heard whispering "estos mis padres" and "es mi tío/abuelito" when any of the men said or did anything that impressed the others. For the first time in her life, she felt pride. 

   Once the children learned that the frail old gentleman before them was the infamous Charles Xavier, you would have thought a god had walked among them. They became speechless. So many sets of young eyes were fixed on him. 

   He sat up straight and proud. For the first time in what felt like forever, Logan saw the man he had met so many decades ago. A strong minded professor. A fighter for the union of and peace amongst man and mutant. A mentor and leader. 

   It was time now, however, to speak about plans. Where to go from here. Did the children even have a plan after meeting at this little cabin? Surely one of them would know something. 

"Which one of you knows what the hell we're supposed to do now?" 

"We wait." Rictor spoke up. "We have three more days until our deadline. Then we move on to Canada." 

"Three days?! You've gotta be shitting me! We can't sit around here with our thumbs up our-" 

"Logan!" Caliban snapped, grabbing Logan's arm. "They're children. They must have been told what to do, given a plan, and they're simply doing as asked."

"We were told to all meet here. If we leave early, we might miss someone. Leave them behind. If we do that we risk..." 

   Another boy moved forward and clapped a hand on Rictor's shoulder. They nodded at each other and Rictor walked to the doorway. He motioned for Logan to follow. Victor and Laura followed as well. 

   Outside was a observatory tower. A long telescope provided a view of a beautiful green forest. On the other side, desert sands and rocky formations. There was also an old, dusty cb radio.

"Rictor, incoming." He waited patiently for a reply. "Rictor, incoming, over." 

   Silence. Logan looked at Victor with annoyance. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by static. 

"Snowbird receiving. Over." A woman's voice could be heard through the static. 

"We have some new additions to the group. Relay orders please. Over." 

"...The owl hunts in the garden on the third moon." 

   There was more static, and then she was gone. Rictor turned to the two men with a satisfied grin on his face. They both looked more than annoyed now. 

"So some mystery broad tells you about a bird in a garden and you think that means to just sit around and-" 

"Daddy!" Laura was panicked. 

   She pulled his arm frantically and, at a loss for words, pointed at the telescope helplessly. Logan moved closer peering into the smaller end. Laura roughly yanked it so that it pointed in the direction she was trying to show. 

   A group of dark grey and black military style vehicles were racing toward their direction. His old eyes strained to see some sort of identification on them. In his gut, he knew exactly who they were. 

"Fuck!" He backed away and looked at his brother and Rictor. "Looks like our mercenary buddies found us. Look kid, we need to move our asses, now!" He grabbed the walkie and shouted into it, "Bird better get to the garden now, because we're being hunted."

   He didn't wait for a reply. He ran back into the cabin where Charles and Caliban were laughing with the children. Their faces turned solemn immediately upon seeing Logan. 

"Get your shit, we gotta move. Those Transigen assholes are here. Move it!" Logan snapped his fingers and the children began to rush. 

   Caliban stood and knew by the looks in Laura and Victor's eyes that Logan wasn't acting hastily. He nodded and started to help the children gather their things. The small shack buzzed like a hive as everyone ran around packing. Laura shouldered her bag and gave Caliban his duffle. 

"Thank you, my lovely." He turned to Logan. "Everyone is packed now. We can take turns lowering the children down on the-" 

"There's no time. We gotta book it through the woods. It's the only way to lose them." He waved for everyone to follow. 

"But, Logan. We can't possibly- what about Charles?" He whispered the last part, although not quietly enough. 

   He didn't even think of that. How the fuck could he not have thought about him? Jesus Christ. Caliban was right, there was no way they could- no. They were going to try. 

   He stubbornly grabbed the wheelchair and began to push Charles out the door. The children watched silently. Victor grabbed Logan by the shoulder. 

"I'll carry him." He gave a shrug. "You're still healing." 

"Healing? From what? I thought you could heal super fast?" Bobby looked at his hero with the sudden realization that he was in fact a mere mortal. 

"Take this." Rictor handed Logan a syringe with a small amount of green liquid in it. "It will help your body heal itself." 

   Without questioning it, Logan injected himself while Victor picked up Charles. Then they all filed out of the cabin one by one. Laura reached out and grabbed Caliban's hand. He leaned in closer to whisper to her. 

"Sometimes your daddy likes to put on a brave face, even when he's scared. I think the comfort of a little hand in his could help him not be quite so scared anymore. What do you think, love?" 

   Laura nodded and Caliban gave her hand a slight squeeze before releasing it. She ran ahead to catch up with Logan and grabbed his hand instead. Caliban smiled as he watched Logan's slumped figure straighten up. 

"I was right. As usual." He smugly whispered in the night air. 

   They hurried into the forest. It was dark under the shadeof the trees and growing darker still as the last of the sunlight on the horizon died out. They could hear them now, the humming of the vehicles that were set out to hunt them. 

"Children, children, please! Find a partner and stay together!" Charles shouted over Victor's shoulder. 

   The children did as they were told and paired off. Their legs pumped as fast as they could over the uneven terrain. Dodging branches and roots, and diving between bushes and trees. 

   The roar of engines grew louder. In the game of speed, the machines were clearly cut out to be superior to living creatures. Nevertheless, the children persevered. 

   The mechanical beasts were soon upon them. Shots rang out in the dead silence of the forest. Children screamed and scattered. One child, a young boy, turned around and thrust his open palm toward the oncoming vehicles. Flames erupted and engulfed them. 

   Rictor stopped and yanked on his partner's arm. "Delilah! Now!" 

   Delilah brushed the dark hair from her face and held up her hands. Ice began to form a thick wall, creating a barrier between mutant and machine. 

"Good enough!" Rictor yelled, "Run!" 

   He grabbed Delilah's hand and they ran again together. Another young girl used her powers to pierce the vehicles with tree splinters, making them act as bullets. 

   An assault of gunfire rained down on them. Some of the children fell behind. Logan stopped running and turned to find them. There was a sharp yelp.

"Laura, go with Victor and Charles. I gotta go find your friends. Where's Caliban?" He looked around suddenly panicked. 

"You can't, Jimmy. The kids will be fine, now let's go." Victor protested. 

   Logan had already taken off. Victor hesitated. He knew he had to keep Charles safe, but what about Logan? A boy approached them. 

"I can carry him. Keep him safe." He whispered. 

"No offense kid, but how the hell you gonna do that?" Victor scoffed. 

   The boy motioned for Victor to set Charles down. He then sat beside the old man, copying his exact position. Then, as if by magic, both rose and stood moving perfectly in sync with each other. The boy walked a few steps to demonstrate, and Charles mimicked. 

"I'll be damned. Kid you are just...thanks. Now run, get goin'!" He shooed them off. Before running after Logan. 

   Pierce carefully aimed at the chubby boy in front of him. He wasn't about to miss this shot. Bobby shook and dove to the ground. Shoot, run over, what's the damn difference, Pierce thought to himself. 

   He didn't have time to brace himself before his body froze and lurched. Fire blazed across each of his nerves. He couldn't cry out or move. Electricity danced through Donald Pierce's body.

   Bobby lay below, sending surge after surge through the vehicle. He finally released it from his shocking grip and began to run again. A few yards ahead, another vehicle was thrown into the air. Rictor could be seen on the other side of a tree. The ground beneath the vehicle heaved and shifted. 

   Everywhere, all around, children fought for their lives. Bullets screamed in the air and men trampled the ground, with murder in their hearts. Both sides fought with determination. One side determined to kill, the other to finally taste freedom. 

   Caliban sat hunched in shrubbery. His hood pulled over his head to cover his milky white skin. He didn't want to risk giving away their position. With him, a wounded child lay. The reptilian boy was shot and bleeding. 

"What's your name?" He was trying to keep the boy's focus away from the pain.

"G-Gideon." He winced

   He held the child close to his chest. "It's going to be alright. I won't let them get you. Breathe, Gideon. Breathe." 

   The boy drew in a sharp breath, hissing between his sharp teeth. Caliban shushed him as three mercenaries walked close by, scouting their surroundings. Gideon held his breath.

   They came closer and closer to the hiding mutants. Caliban wrapped his arms around the boy, preparing to run. Gideon bared his teeth and shot up through the brush, exposing himself to the hunters. 

   Before they could even aim, the boy spat a thick, dark liquid at their faces. Like acid, it began to eat away at their flesh. They screamed and writhed on the ground as Gideon collapsed back into Caliban's arms. 

"Good Lord child! Remind me to not share a drink with you." The boy gave an amused chuckle. 

   Caliban got up and hoisted the bleeding boy into a cradle hold. He ran in the direction everyone else had rushed off to. For once, Caliban was thankful for his years as a Morlock and his knowledge of hiding in the shadows. They were able to swiftly make their way around without being seen. 

    He caught Victor's scent and made his way over. They found him locked in battle with several Transigen agents. The way he tore at them was like watching a lion take down its prey. 

   The men fell with a thud one by one. Caliban emerged once they were clear. Victor had to do a double take and restrain himself before attacking. He took a look at the wounded boy. 

"He hurt bad?"

"Caught a bullet in the thigh. Outer, not inner, luckily." 

"Make a break for it, that way. I'll tell Jimmy you're safe. He ran back to find some of the others." 

"Victor..." Caliban swallowed hard through his panting, "Thank you...I forgive you." 

"That means a lot, but this is not the time or place. Now get the fuck outta here!"

   They parted ways, going in opposite directions. Victor got down on all fours, running more like a beast than a man. Every chance he had, he pounced on one of their armed opponents. 

   Logan threw aside the Transigen agents one after another, leaving a trail of dead and wounded men. He was now face to face now with Pierce. The man had crawled his way out of his vehicle and lay dazed and in pain on the forest ground. Rictor, Delilah and another girl had surrounded the barely conscious man. 

   Rictor opened the ground beneath Pierce and the two girls encased him in thick layers of vines, roots, and sheets of ice. Rictor then allowed the earth to swallow Pierce, creating his tomb. Logan sat back and watched the children get the revenge they so deserved. 

"Kids, come on. Let's-" 

   Gunfire tore through Logan's body. He fell to his knees and tried to breathe through the pain. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Victor leap onto the vehicle responsible and rip its occupants out, piece by piece. 

   When he was finished he ushered the children along and came back to Logan. He wrapped one strong arm around his waist and hoisted him up. Logan gasped in pain. 

"Oh no you don't. I'm the only one that gets to kill you, remember?" Victor tried to grin and beckoned the children to follow.

"Better...make it...fast then" Logan panted. 

   They all made their way onward to the border. Fires burned Transigen vehicles and men without harming the forest. The children had been able to use their gifts to defend themselves to even a greater extent than Logan had hoped. 

"Where's...Laura?" Logan tried to breathe steadily. "Victor! Where's Laura and Charles? Caliban?" 

"I told her, the old man and another kid to keep running. They're safe. Caliban, too. He was helping the little lizard boy." 

They continued onward. Weaving in and out between trees. It was hard to see anything in the darkness. The fires were the only source of light now. 

   Up ahead they could just make out a clearing. They pushed on. Victor was nearly dragging Logan now, trying to keep a steady pace. The children were excitedly chattering in Spanish to each other. 

   They had made it to safety amongst the flowers. The garden was beautiful. Trickling water could be heard all around. Flowers in reds, yellows, oranges, pinks, purples, and white surrounded them. Caliban and Charles were lovingly tending to the children, checking them over for wounds. 

   Gideon had received an injection of the green liquid to help him heal and was sitting between the two men. Caliban jumped up and ran to Logan. His smile faded into a look of horror. Rictor handed him a syringe, and Caliban took it, promptly injecting Logan and helping Victor lower him to the ground. 

"Laura!" Logan called out. "Where's Laura?" His vision was fading. 

"Logan I thought- I thought she was with you!" Caliban's voice wavered. 

   Logan tried to sit up and failed. His head was swimming. The garden was filled with anxious chattering and cries. In the distance, chimes rang out. They were beautiful and haunting. 

   A large white owl floated down from the sky above. The moonlight made its feathers glow softly. Logan struggled to stay conscious. 

"Laura! LAAUUURAAAA!"


	10. Resting in Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
> Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
> All your life  
> You were only waiting  
> for this moment to arise
> 
> Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
> Take these sunken eyes and learn to see  
> All your life  
> You were only waiting  
> for this moment to be free
> 
> -The Beatles, "Blackbird"

"Laura! Laura, where are you?" 

   It was a bad dream, nothing more. That whole chapter of their life had finally ended. They were free. Really, truly free. Together again there in the garden, nothing else about that life mattered. 

   There were no more locked cells. No more chemicals, tests, and experiments. They would never be forced to fight again. They would never face euthanasia. 

   They refused to talk about their creator, Dr. Rice, or the man who had been so cruel to them, Donald Pierce. They refused to acknowledge that they had spent all of their lives like animals caged in a lab. Transigen would forever be a foreign word to them. 

   The only thing the children would ever talk about when it came to 'the time before', were the brave nurses that had so selflessly given their lives to save them. That was what they considered to be the true beginning of their lives. That and the moment those four old mutants risked everything to bring them to safety. 

   They owed their lives to the incredible warrior, Wolverine, the legendary Professor Xavier, the Morlock Caliban, and even to the infamous scoundrel, Sabretooth. Despite the wrinkles and gray hair, these men lived up to their expectations of what it is to be a hero, and more. They would no longer look up to images in a comic book; the real icons had stood before them. 

"Laura!"

   Then there was the owl. That beautiful snow owl that had appeared in the International Garden of Peace that night. Like an ominous beacon, it had perched upon a plaque reading "May peace prevail." Oh, how they loved to recall the way that the snow white owl had begun to grow and transform like magic before their eyes, just as the garden chimes rang out. 

   The way it's wings outstretched behind it, turning into a long, billowing cape and its feathers melted away into white and blue fabric. How the moonlight had shone down on her long, golden hair. The arctic goddess, Snowbird, had come to their aid just in time. 

"Laura!" 

   Laura had been the one to find Alpha Flight that night. She had run back into the forest to find Logan, but, instead, came upon another beast. The creature was huge, and stood upright on two feet. Long faded red hair, with a sprinkling of white covered his body. 

   A man named Michael, whom the creature had referred to as Shaman, had coaxed Laura to not fear Walter. He, like her was a mutant; Sasquatch. Something about the aged First Nations man told Laura she was safe with them. When several armed Transigen men had surrounded them, they proved to her that she was indeed very much safe I their company. 

   Shaman ran back to signal for Snowbird once Laura had told him that Charles Xavier and a young mutant named Jonah were already waiting in the garden. Sasquatch and Laura then scoured the forest for mercenaries and mutants alike. They saw a few children running alongside Victor and a wounded Logan in the distance and continued on their hunt. 

   With the help of the Transigen serum, Logan only took a few days to heal. Gideon took two days. Thankfully he had been the only child to sustain a serious injury, with the exception of Laura, but then he couldn't heal the way she could. 

   The last few Alpha Flight members apologized for cominh late to the rescue, but had Logan not yelled into the cb radio, they might not have come at all. They were honored to take in the children and help protect them. They quickly became a family with more than enough love to go around.

"Laura!" 

"Ok! I really have to go!" Laura rose to her feet. Rictor pulled at her hand. 

"Are you sure you cannot stay?" 

"My father..." Laura pointed away from the lake and toward a hill in the distance. 

   Her friends were reluctant to see her go, but they all knew tomorrow was another day. Shaman had been teaching them meditation practises to help cleanse their spirits of the effects of their traumas and to control their impulsive emotions. He smiled at Laura without opening his eyes. 

"Your father could benefit from meditating as well. Bring him next time." 

"I'll try." She scampered off. "But, you know him..." 

"That I do. All the more reason for him to find inner peace." Micheal chuckled. 

   Laura waved goodbye to her friends and turned to head of toward the hill. They all shouted their goodbyes as she hurried off, waving as she went. Micheal urged them to take deep breaths, and clear their minds and concentrate. 

   The lake the group sat by to meditate was still and clear this time of year. The air had grown still and chilly. Soon the leaves would fall from the trees. Laura was excited to experience the season's coming changes. 

   Charles had told her about hot chocolate, and how on frigid winter nights, after playing in the snow, there was nothing else like it in the world to warm you up. Caliban had told her about the lights that came with winter. The beautiful twinkling lights, along with delicious foods, and gifts, and the one night a year when the whole world believed in magic. 

   Logan had confessed he had never really cared for building snowmen, Santa Claus, or winter festivities. His mind, he added, had changed when he saw Laura's face as they told her these stories. The look of childlike wonder and hope. His old heart longed to give her all the main in the world of she could just hold onto that innocence. 

   Laura's little feet walked swiftly over the grassy hill to their new home. She could already smell the aroma of dinner. Her belly rumbled with the sudden epiphany of hunger. 

   Atop the hill she finally came upon two newly built, quaint cabins. In front of the larger of the two stood a man with his hands on his hips. She ran up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. His frown immediately turned into a soft smile. 

   Logan looked at Laura now. One year later and she was a different child. She had grass stains on her jeans instead of blood. Her hair was a disheveled from the whipping wind, not fighting. She wore a pair of sleepy eyes, not from nightmares, but because Caliban had, once again, let her stay up late to share a cup of tea and name the constellations.

"Daddy! I missed you!" She nuzzled her face into his thick plaid jacket. He smelled of cedar and fresh air, just as he always did after work. He returned her embrace.

"That hippy's taking advantage of me working late. His lessons are running longer and longer these days." 

"Daddy, he's Shaman when he's teaching us and Michael when he's not." She giggled and shook her head. 

"I'll call him whatever I want." He smirked, "It's dinner time, go on and get washed up. I'm gonna grab some wood. Gonna get chilly tonight." 

   She hurried inside the cabin and saw Charles sleeping peacefully in a well worn recliner. The two new homes had been built together by the family, with the help of the Alpha Flight team. Its furnishings weren't new or glamorous, but it was the richest any of them had ever felt. In the bigger house lived Logan, Laura, Caliban and Charles. In the smaller one next door, lived Victor. 

   Caliban sat at the dining table, reading a book and sipping tea. "He came home early again and I didn't get a chance to distract him before he started shouting for you like a maniac. Sorry about that." He lowered the book and whispered with a wink, "I think he just might disapprove of your curriculum."

Laura laughed, "He thinks Mr. Michael is teaching us wishy washy bullshi-"

"Mind your language, please." He raised a blond eyebrow. "You're as bad as Logan."

"Sorry, Papa." She blushed. "I'll...I'm gonna get ready for dinner." 

   He hid a chuckle and continued on with his book. Logan came in a moment later carrying a small bundle of wood. He set them beside the fireplace then flopped on the couch and began to unlace his boots. 

"Logan, you're a man, not a whale. No need to dive onto the furniture like one." Caliban tutted without looking up.

"Hello to you too, sweetheart." Logan huffed and continued to yank at his boot laces, then sniffed at the air. "The hell's that smell?" 

"Surely you meant 'what smells so amazing?' Because the answer to that would be the lovely roast I made for dinner." 

"No. The OTHER smell. Like burnt-"

"The candle? Lemon and sage. Your nose is failing you in your old age." Caliban turned the page. 

"It smells like-" 

"Like the candle Laura picked out on Sunday?" He looked up now, giving Logan a look of warning.

"Right..." Logan went back to removing his boots. 

   Her room was simple. A small space to call her very own. She had a warm bed against one wall and a dresser opposite. A small table served as both her night stand and desk for her homework. On her pillow snuggled her little stuffed unicorn. 

   She had a few other little dollies and stuffed animals, but her unicorn was something special. It reminded her of the little porcelain one Gabriella had in her home. She only got to see it for a moment before they had to flee again, but it had burned into her memory as the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. 

   Laura stroked the stuffed lovey's soft rainbow mane. It's beady black eyes ever staring. It's once bright white fur was now slightly dim and dingey. It was, however, still perfect in her eyes. 

"Te amo." She spoke softly now, not to the unicorn itself, but to Gabriella. 

   Laura scampered into the bathroom to wash her hands and re emerged into the kitchen. Logan was setting the table as Caliban dished out dinner. Logan patted her head as she walked past him. 

"Why doncha go wake up ol' Chuck for me, hon?" 

   She nodded and made her way over to the peacefully sleeping elderly mutant. He was always so happy to see Laura. This past year had been hard on his old body and mind. Sometimes he recognized her, and sometimes he called her by the wrong name. Either way, she was a sure fire way to get him into a good mood. 

"My dear! Back so soon?" He smiled as the sleep left his eyes. 

"Yes. It's time to eat." She hugged him gently. 

   Logan helped him into his chair and wheeled him to the head of the table. Together they sat at the table as a family. Before they began Laura interrupted. 

"Wait! Where's tio?"

"He had to stay late today, hon." Logan answered. 

   Her frown told him that that wasn't the news she wanted to hear. "Laura, honey, he's over here more than he's at his own place. You'll see him soon enough." 

"Okay." She poked at her food. 

"How about you help me make him up a plate, and you can take it to him when he gets home tonight, hmmm?" Caliban soothed. 

"Sure!" She perked back up. 

   Logan shook his head with a grin and mouthed the word "spoiled" at his partner. Caliban grinned right back and shrugged. The truth was they both doted on Laura terribly, as did Victor and Charles. 

   They treated the other children the same as they did Laura. They were over often enough that they might as well have lived there. That was the nice thing about living in close quarters with Alpha Flight team. They took the phrase "it takes a village to raise a child" quite literally. 

   Not a day went by that they weren't grateful to Snowbird, Micheal, Walter, and all of the other remaining team members. It was through them that they got to remain a family. They had helped get Charles on better medications and housed them and the children as they built the cabins. 

   After dinner, Laura helped Caliban with the dishes while Logan sat on the front porch as the last colors of the light died over the horizon and the moon took over the sky. Back in his beloved Canada with people he loved. Peace at last. Well, almost.

"Ugh, I don't want to wear a sweater!" Laura's voice protested.

"You'll catch your death out there!" Caliban warned.

"But it's not even that cold out." She was using her best whinging tone. 

"Laura..." Charles spoke up now, his voice slightly stern.

"Ok, Ok. I'll wear it." Laura gave in. 

   Caliban and Laura came out to join him, pushing Charles along. Laura climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around her thin body. Caliban adjusted Charles blanket before running back inside. He returned with three mugs. He passed one to Charles and one to Logan before taking the seat between them. 

   The four watched the stars twinkle into place in the dark blue sky, sipping their coffee and tea. Logan's hand made its way over to Caliban, fingers searching for his. They smiled at each other lovingly. Laura watched their fingers lace together and began to softly hum a tune; this was their little family tradition. Logan kissed her cheek and lay his head on hers and she hummed a little louder. 

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night," Logan began. 

   Laura's higher pitched voice joined I with his, "take these broken wings and learn to fly."

   Soon the four of them sang together. Caliban and Logan, hand in hand, eyes locked on each other. Charles sang softly and off key, watching, proud of the man Logan had become, and Laura in her father's arms smiling as Victor's truck came into view. 

"All your life, you were waiting for this moment to arise."


End file.
